


because that's what love is

by storyop



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, inspired by the 'universe' mv, oh look it's the sweet scent of self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyop/pseuds/storyop
Summary: chanyeol had always thought of kyungsoo as the night sky; vast, unknowable, but slowly revealing his secrets to him star (the moles dotted over the expanse of kyungsoo's stomach) by star (the tiny hitch of his breath when chanyeol lifts him, tiny and willing in his arms). he'd always wanted to be an astronomer as a kid but — but maybe space was never meant for him. (it was. it is. chanyeol relearns the meaning of having galaxies underneath his fingertips.)





	1. serendipity

**Author's Note:**

> here is a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/7llq3u84nrd07w9zzo8ixfzuk/playlist/2BjBrxi4F3uMKQydjFpFKK?si=EHTlMUCXTrux4T4fEE4jDw). the cover art is by the lovely [mokavocado](https://mokavocado.tumblr.com/post/169929026569/sorry-for-not-updating-thank-you-so-much-for-the)!
> 
> for you, jonghyun.

i.

_i’ll search the universe, until i can find you again_

_—_ because that’s what love is.

 

ii.

chanyeol has no idea why it’s a compliment to be likened to the sun, especially on a day like this, when there’s a bead of sweat running down his neck into the collar of his shirt and he’s pretty sure if he cracked an egg onto the sidewalk he’d cook a better omelette than he would on his frying pan at home. (his sister’s frying pan, in his sister’s apartment, but still.) he needs air conditioning, fully functioning wifi, and maybe some coffee, _in_ that order.

his sense of direction, however, has not gotten any better since he left deokjeokdo, so instead of finding the starbucks he’d searched up that was supposedly only a couple blocks away from the apartment, he’s stumbled upon a local coffee shop. shrugging, he pushes open the door to café universe; everything at starbucks is ridiculously over expensive, anyway.

 _ah, the wonders of modern technology_ , chanyeol thinks, closing his eyes briefly as the delicious chill of the ac inside the café washes over him. everything inside is a nice mix of beige and off-white and other neutral colors that somewhat calm his perpetually racing brain. (which, to be fair, the coffee will boost right back up again.) the walls are white-painted brick, covered almost totally by artwork. there’s what looks to be a hall of fame on one wall, a gallery of sketched portraits all drawn by the same artist. he wanders over to take a closer look at them, noting the _kai_ written in the corners. kai’s signature is pretty, a big, swooping _k_ followed by a tiny _a_ and a tall _i_. their art style is even prettier, obvious care taken in the way all the details come together for the final effect. whoever drew them knew them well.

he connects to the wifi as he stands in line and types out a quick draft for an email to his mom, smiling as he dumps a whole bunch of emojis into the subject line. he calls his mom often, but they both especially love sending emails back and forth, having the words set right out for them so they can always go back and reread. with his sister and him both away from home, he knows his parents probably feel pretty lonely, but they’re always cheery when they communicate with him — and he’s just as cheery back. it’s ingrained in his nature; he most probably got it from them. he got everything good about himself from them.

“hey there,” the man behind the counter greets chanyeol. he’s compact, head full of short black curls, and when he smiles his gums are on full display and chanyeol automatically smiles back. “this is your first time here, right?” chanyeol recognizes him as one of the subjects of the portraits he’d been looking at minutes ago, the one smack dab in the middle of the gallery. _must be the owner or something_.

“yeah, uh…” chanyeol squints at the man’s name tag; he’s forgotten his glasses at home. “minseok, hi! this is… well, it’s my first time here, actually. is there anything you’d recommend?”

minseok’s eyes twinkle. “well, our blueberry muffins are kind of a big deal around here. as a matter of fact, we’re just finishing up a new batch; if you’d like to order you can just take a seat over there and a member of our staff will bring it to you.” he points to where the small wooden tables are set up, next to a row of cozy booths that are already mostly filled. this place looks like it gets a lot of traffic.

finally, chanyeol makes the connection. “oh, you’re _that_ café universe! my sister — she’s a reporter — did a piece on you guys? something about how in the face of rising consumerism and high name brands you guys still managed to gain a quite large level of popularity because of your blueberry muffins and… and foam art? authenticity in a world of overpriced sugar in a cup?” thankfully, there’s no one behind him, but he can see someone entering, and he says, flushing, “oh, and um. yeah, i’ll take a blueberry muffin and two iced hazelnut lattes, thanks.”

he’s not sure, but he thinks minseok is kind of laughing at him. “the foam art is mostly due to jongin, really,” minseok says as he rings him up. “that kid is a whiz at it. a true artist. and if your sister is park yura, that must make you… chanyeol?” he nods, and minseok grins even bigger. “she talked about you a lot… and the two of you look really similar, too. just wait over there for your order, please.”

the far right wall, right next to where chanyeol is standing, is covered top to bottom in paintings. they’re an eclectic mix of styles, and some are landscapes and some abstract, but they’re all incredibly beautiful. _whoever’s designing this place has a good eye for art_ , chanyeol thinks. the opposite wall is one giant fresco, a depiction of a placid lake painted in greens and blues. for a moment chanyeol is transported back in time and place to deokjeokdo five summers ago, when he and kyungsoo used to sit on the rocks and fish together, barefoot and sweating under the sun, laughing over something (probably a stupid something) chanyeol had said. when it had been just the two of them. when they had been young and stupidly in love.

chanyeol still wakes up every morning regretting the way the two of them had left their relationship when he’d moved to anseong for college. moved isn’t exactly the right word for it, though — it’s more like he just up and _left_ , woke up one morning and was gone, without a word. he’d been reckless and inconsiderate and just filled to the brim with dreams too big for even his body and the thought of making things up between the two of them is always lingering in the back of his mind. but he’s been too much of a coward to step foot on that island since his departure, even to see his parents. he’d applied in secret and the second he’d gotten the acceptance letter he’d made up his mind. told them the day before his departure about his plans, the slow suffocation of living on that island proving to be too much for him and his too big dreams.

 _i’m too young to be full of so many regrets_ , chanyeol thinks mournfully (and maybe a little dramatically; he’s good at that), and then his name is being called and he heads up to the counter to accept his drinks from a different man. he’s a lot taller than minseok, almost as tall as chanyeol in fact, with soft eyes and even softer hair colored a blush pink. chanyeol notices a small golden choker around his neck, an eight-pointed star resting in the dip of his collarbones. his name tag reads jongin.

“next time i’ll let you wow me with your famed foam art, jongin,” chanyeol says seriously, holding up one of his lattes in some kind of salute. jongin blushes a little, but nods. everything about him is so _gentle_. “thank you.”

“the muffins will be with you soon,” jongin promises, and chanyeol ducks his head into a little bow. he seeks a table near the fresco, oddly drawn to it despite it reminding him so much of his past. sometimes he can’t even figure himself out, whether he wants to leave it all buried or not. maybe he’s just scared, all the time, of everything. a big, dumb coward.

> _how are things with the restaurant? i hope you and dad aren’t working yourselves too hard. yura definitely is; she’s barely at home anymore and always running around doing a hundred different things all at once. guess it runs in the park family, huh? i’ve been here a week and i’ve seen her only about seven times. but that’s okay!!!! she’s a super fancy reporter now and that’s really cool and i’m really happy for her :-):-):-) i’ve been looking for apartments here too so i don’t get in her hair too much… i know she loves me but i’ll bet after almost two decades she’s tired of sharing a room with her little brother…_

chanyeol takes a greedy slurp of his latte, already halfway done with one cup. he’s got his laptop open to the half-finished email and he’s scrolling through his soundcloud on his phone, trying to find songs to complete a playlist he’d started last week for those times when you know you’re procrastinating and you’re telling yourself to stop but you just _can’t_ (he’s had one too many of those days in college), and then he looks up.

and almost drops his phone. because standing in front of him, holding a plate with a blueberry muffin on it, is none other than do kyungsoo. his lips are downturned and his face says he’s pretty damn unhappy to see chanyeol, but still. it’s do kyungsoo. his kyungsoo. _kyungsoo_.

for the first time since that night in deokjeokdo, chanyeol is speechless. he literally has no idea what to do, or say, but it doesn’t really matter because kyungsoo’s not giving him the _chance_ to do or say anything, simply setting the plate down silently and turning away. even from that brief second, even from watching kyungsoo’s back as he walks, the familiarity, the regret, the pain, have settled deep into chanyeol’s lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe.

“wait!” chanyeol says, forcing the words out. he doesn’t even know what he’s going to say, what he _could_ say to make it all better. the universe is offering him a second chance and he has no idea what to do with it. kyungsoo pauses, but the look on his face says he already regrets it.

“why are you here?” chanyeol asks, hand grasping his cup so tightly he’s scared it’ll break. kyungsoo doesn’t even look at him, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. his fingers are fisted in his apron like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands — punch chanyeol, or slap chanyeol, or grab chanyeol by the collar of his too big shirt and kiss him the way chanyeol loved to be kissed by him —  
  
“i work here.”  
  
he snaps out of his daydream. “no i mean,” chanyeol says, running his tongue over his bottom lip, “why are you here? in seoul?” this had been… this had always been stray thread of their relationship, the one that you pull to unravel the whole thing. chanyeol’s need for more and kyungsoo’s reluctance to take all the leaps chanyeol had wanted him to.  
  
kyungsoo finally looks up. chanyeol tightens his grip on the cup; it’s like looking straight into his past, the good and the bad. kyungsoo looks better, now, cheeks fuller and eyes bright, even if they are looking at him with a mixture of distrust and anger. he deserves it. (he remembers kyungsoo sneaking into his room through the window, hands shaking. chanyeol would kiss his knuckles and pick the stray leaf or two out of his hair and tell him how the restaurant had done that day until he calmed.) “why are _you_ here, chanyeol?” (he remembers holding kyungsoo’s hand in his, the two of them walking through the pine forests of deokjeokdo during chuseok, when the island was flooded with tourists and both kyungsoo’s dad and his mom had their hands full. yura had come along sometimes, too, when his mother had insisted, but she’d realized pretty fast they wanted to be alone and had let them be with a mere warning to be responsible.) “i thought you went to school in anseong.” (he remembers running his fingers through kyungsoo’s hair, tracing the curve of his smile with his thumb. it’s all muscle memory, cupping kyungsoo’s small cheeks in his big hands and tipping forward to meld their mouths.)  
  
“and i thought you’d never leave deokjeokdo,” chanyeol says a little bitterly, regretting it as soon as the words leave his mouth. kyungsoo’s eyes darken, and without a word, he turns around and walks to the next table, a smile smoothly appearing on his face in front of the couple sitting there. chanyeol has seen a hundred of kyungsoo’s smiles, the real ones and the fake, and this is the one where he pretends everything’s okay when it’s really not.

this time, it’s chanyeol watching kyungsoo leave.

 

iii.

he takes a walk.

hands in his pockets, he wanders the area around café universe, not straying too far for fear of losing his way back there and therefore losing his way back to yura’s apartment. the breeze ruffles his hair, and he breathes it in, counting to ten for every inhale and exhale. there’s a steady stream of people up and down the sidewalk, shoppers and the occasional tourist and businessmen and women, all of them in a hurry to get somewhere. all of them with an end goal.

it gives him time to think, and all his thoughts are crowded with kyungsoo. kyungsoo had been — he had been brilliant. he had been talented, and gentle despite everything bad the world had thrown at him, and funny and smart and sad and beautiful and _chanyeol’s_. he had been a crown jewel, and chanyeol had tarnished that. and he’d never gone back to make it better.

 _hey_ , chanyeol had never said.

 _i miss you_ , chanyeol had never said.

 _you were the best person to ever happen to me_ , chanyeol had never said.

 _i’m still in love with you and i don’t think i’ll ever stop being in love with you_ , chanyeol had never said.

 _hey, i miss you. you were the best person to ever happen to me… i’m still in love with you and i don’t think i’ll ever stop being in love with you. i think about you always, the look in your eyes when i told you i loved you like you couldn’t quite believe it. like a part of you thought you didn’t deserve me. but the thing is, i never deserved you, did i? was that part of the reason things went wrong? i don’t know, and i don’t care. this time around, i’m doing things right. i’m taking my time with you and knowing you better and treating you right every step of the way. this time around, i’m staying. not for you, but with you. no matter what. i’m sorry. let’s try again. i want to try again,_ chanyeol had never said.

 

iv.

the thing is, chanyeol knows kyungsoo by heart. he knows exactly what it looks like when kyungsoo’s in love, knows the curve of his eyes when they’re half-closed as chanyeol presses soft kisses to his stomach, knows the little gasping sounds he makes when chanyeol tongues at the mole on the right side of his jaw. chanyeol knows kyungsoo better than he knows himself.

and he knows when kyungsoo is mad at him. (of course he is. he has every right to be. chanyeol’s still mad at himself.)

despite this, chanyeol finds himself back at café universe the next morning, this time with a giant pair of headphones so he can work on a soundtrack for the video game he’s assigned to. he’s almost done with it, but there’s a couple things he has left to finish and tweak. studying audio engineering had been a dream come true for him, and even though he’d left his entire life behind for it, he doesn’t regret it in the slightest. it got him a passion and a career — the perfect career, in fact. a marriage between two of the things he loves best, and a chance to work with people who think the same way he does, about video games and music and everything in between. he just wishes he hadn’t had to trade kyungsoo for it.

jongin and kyungsoo are working the two registers, and chanyeol is torn between standing in the line for kyungsoo’s or not. on one hand, he’s probably going to get glared at again, but on the other, he’s going to get to talk to kyungsoo again. he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed him until their conversation yesterday — if you could call it that.

jongin shoots him a confused look as he hovers, and he decides to be brave for once. 

> _i saw kyungsoo again for the first time yesterday. mom, do you think it’s possible to make a mistake so big that you can’t come back from it? no matter how hard you try? i know i hurt kyungsoo, and he hurt me, too, but it doesn’t seem to matter as much now. i miss him so much, like it’s this physical ache inside of me. even more now that i’ve seen his face again… but i have no idea how to fix things. maybe i should try being his friend. do you think that would help?_

kyungsoo does, in fact, shoot him an unreadable glance when he steps up to the counter, but he doesn’t say anything as chanyeol orders the same thing he did yesterday. he doesn’t look as upset as he did yesterday, and chanyeol chooses to believe it’s because it had just been a gut reaction, a reflection of all the ugly feelings chanyeol had probably left with him flooding back.

“can i get a name for the order?” kyungsoo asks, voice steady and betraying nothing.

chanyeol clears his throat. “um. yeah. dick grayson.”

at that, kyungsoo snaps his head up, eyes wide. chanyeol had been the one to rope kyungsoo into watching every superhero movie ever released with him back when they were dating, and just to make kyungsoo laugh whenever they went out to one of the coffee shops on the island chanyeol would always say a different character when they asked him for his name. he still treasures the memory of kyungsoo’s soft giggles, the exasperated yet fond way he’d rolled his eyes up at chanyeol.

he’d always liked how much of a nerd chanyeol was — and still is. chanyeol’s changed, but that hasn’t. his laptop’s covered in deadpool and star wars stickers, little BB8s and leia organa heads, and he still makes it a point to catch the premieres of all the movies. it’s not the same without kyungsoo, though.

“kyungsoo,” chanyeol presses, gathering courage from the way something flashes across kyungsoo’s eyes, like he remembers those days too, “can we... can we talk? please?” his voice cracks a little, and he winces. forces himself to gather what bit of courage he has left. “not… nothing other than that. just talk.”

“no,” kyungsoo says flatly, and his stomach drops. but then — “first of all, i’m at work. and minseok hyung has a policy of leaving personal problems off universe grounds. but. i get off work in a couple hours. you can buy me lunch.”

“th-thank you,” chanyeol stammers, and kyungsoo sends him an unimpressed look. but chanyeol knows kyungsoo better than he knows himself, and he knows that kyungsoo has softened. melted like butter at chanyeol’s heat.

“go wait over there for your order.” and then, so softly he almost misses it, “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive things on the menu.”

 

 

 

looking for apartments that he can afford in seoul is a chore. he doesn’t really know anyone here, so he can’t exactly move in with a buddy, but he also doesn’t want to live with a random stranger. what if they turn out to be an axe murderer? or even worse, someone who doesn’t listen to any girl groups at all?

he lets out a sigh, sliding his headphones back on and focusing again on composing. the video game, titled ZOMNOM, is about a zombie invasion, except they’re intelligent zombies and can seamlessly merge into the regular human population minus the whole eating brains thing, of course. the objective is to rescue your one true love from a hostage situation initiated by zombies.

the hard part about making video game music, especially when it comes to games as suspenseful as this, is to make it just scary enough to set the mood properly but not too much that the player will freak out and lose the game. not to mention the fact that there’s no way to know how _long_ a player will take at a certain scene. but chanyeol’s good at finding balance.

there’s a small tap on the right side of his headphone, and chanyeol looks up to see kyungsoo looking down at him, face unreadable. he saves his work quickly, closing his laptop almost too enthusiastically in an effort not to keep kyungsoo waiting.

“hi!” chanyeol says too loudly. “hey. hi. um, are you ready to go, then…?”

“there’s a panda express across the street,” kyungsoo tells him. chanyeol keeps noticing that he looks so much better than he did on deokjeokdo — gone are the dark circles, the skittish behavior, the way his hands used to shake slightly and only calm when chanyeol held them and rubbed his thumb along his palms.

 _shit_ , chanyeol thinks. the urge to kiss kyungsoo is back at full force, but he doesn’t want to kicked in the balls.

kyungsoo is looking at him like he’s sprouted two heads. “are you coming or not?”

“right!” chanyeol says, scrambling to pack all his equipment up. his phone goes off with a text from his sister but he stuffs it into his pocket without reading it.

neither of them say much as they leave café universe. it’s still hot, but better than yesterday, and chanyeol shakes out his bangs as they make their way down the sidewalk. finally, he can’t take the silence anymore.

“your hair’s changed,” he blurts, inwardly wincing at how _awkward_ he sounds. this is kyungsoo. there is no awkward with him and kyungsoo. “um… it looks nice.” it does; back when he’d last seen kyungsoo it had been a mop of black hair he’d had to flick out of his eyes every so often. it’s just a few shades lighter now, nothing too drastic, cut shorter. chanyeol keeps his hands by his side with difficulty. 

> _kyungsoo was always so good to me — he always knew when to be patient, when to be demanding. he gave me what i wanted, and what i wanted was to follow him. but in the end, i was the one who left… who could’ve seen it coming? did you know? while i was there, how hard it was for me? how much i wished for something more? i’m never going to send this, but i wish i had the courage to ask you these questions. i wish i had the courage to go back and ask you them face to face._

“you changed your hair, too,” kyungsoo says quietly. chanyeol shrugs a little helplessly at the long pause that follows.

he’s pushing the door to panda express open when kyungsoo utters a “it looks good” before slipping inside. chanyeol follows, somewhat stunned, into the building, once again sighing inwardly in relief at the cool air indoors.

kyungsoo does not, in fact, order the most expensive thing on the menu (not that panda express is that expensive anyway) and he’s smiling a little by the time the two of them slide into a booth in the corner. the tension in chanyeol’s chest soothes somewhat.

“how was it?” chanyeol is a little surprised that kyungsoo is initiating, but he’s not about to question or protest it. “going to college? everything you ever dreamed of?”

he watches kyungsoo unwrap his chopsticks, a little intimidated. but — “yeah,” he says firmly. “everything and more. i loved every bit of it.”

kyungsoo nods. “and what were you working on today?” he pops a bite of chicken in his mouth.

in his nervousness, chanyeol goes into what is probably too much detail about making music for video games, ZOMNOM specifically. (kyungsoo laughs a little when he hears the name, and chanyeol swears his heart leaps right the fuck out of his chest. how is it possible that his laugh has only gotten _prettier_?) how the composers usually divide it into musical blocks to make it easier for them, that transitions have to hit all the right emotional points to keep a player hooked during a cutscene. he can’t help it — he’s a talker, and on top of that he’s terribly passionate about this stuff.

“it’s not, you know, perfect or-or easy, though,” chanyeol says, waving his hands. “there’s a lot of thought that has to go into it. you can’t make it sound too repetitive, because people usually play through more than once. i know for a fact i do that.” he puts his hands down only to drum his fingers on the table. “sometimes — well, most of the time, actually — our work has to fit within a certain amount of computer memory. sometimes we have to break our music into layers so it can be mixed on the fly depending on the actions a player takes during the game. a lot of the times, i don’t get to do what i actually want to do with the game because i’m making the music for _other_ people. but” — he doesn’t let his voice waver — “i love it. i love it, kyungsoo. it’s fun and it’s everything i ever dreamed of.”

kyungsoo looks like he doesn’t quite know how to feel when when chanyeol’s finished. “this…” he says slowly. “don’t take this the wrong way, but can we talk about something else right now? something that doesn’t have to do with you leaving or me not leaving or… anything like that?” he takes a breath. “i... we both have a lot to say to each other, i know. i don’t think i’m ready for it yet.” he looks a little scared, like he thinks chanyeol’s going to push him regardless.

he gets it. “okay,” chanyeol agrees. “kyungsoo, i’m not going to ask you to talk about things that make you uncomfortable. i’ve tried to avoid that in the past, and i promise you that although i’ve changed i haven’t changed that much. okay?” kyungsoo nods, much more at ease. “just... promise me that we will. eventually.”

“we will,” kyungsoo says, quiet but sure, and chanyeol gives him his brightest and biggest grin.

he asks harmless questions — did you get any pets like you wanted (two dogs), what’s your opinion on _captain america: the winter soldier_ (the best marvel film so far, of course), what’s it like working at café universe. kyungsoo tells him there’s a barista there named baekhyun who kind of reminds him of chanyeol, that minseok has been nothing but kind to him from day one when he’d shown up in seoul unsure of what he was doing or where he was going, that he’s been learning to perfect his foam art from jongin and is doing pretty well, in his opinion.

“you’ll probably do better than me,” kyungsoo admits. “you were always very good at picking things up rather quickly.”

none of it is as antagonistic as chanyeol had feared, and he realizes just how ridiculously he had been thinking. kyungsoo has always been more than gentle with him, always had tender words and a tender touch. he slowly relaxes with the indications that kyungsoo doesn’t hate him. sure, he’s not about to go gallivanting into the sunset with him while holding his hand, but at least he doesn’t _hate_ him.

they’re headed out the door and back to café universe when chanyeol, in an exceptional display of clumsiness, manages to drop his wallet onto the ground. it flips open to a picture of chanyeol that’s tucked into the clear plastic, in front of his driver’s license. kyungsoo pauses where he’s crouched down on his way to pick it up, hand outstretched.

back when chanyeol had learned to drive for the first time, he’d been really excited about it and had dragged kyungsoo on several night drives around the island. he remembers exactly when this picture had been taken, the sun setting behind chanyeol and tingeing his then brilliant red hair with gold. kyungsoo had told him he really liked taking pictures of chanyeol driving because he’d pout like it was a competition between him and the road and he’d get really focused and sometimes he’d catch kyungsoo in the act and smile for the camera and kyungsoo would have to tell him to keep his eyes on the road. he’d done it a lot and the kyungsoo part of chanyeol’s is crowded with so many repetitions of _keep your eyes on the road, chanyeol._

“do you hate me?” chanyeol blurts as kyungsoo carefully hands him his wallet back. their fingers brush and chanyeol yanks his hand away, terrified of crossing unspoken boundaries he’s not sure exist. “or… or do you just not feel anything for me anymore? just want to move on and never see me again? i know you promised to — to talk about it but it’s been years, i know this, and you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, you don’t have to force yourself to pretend you still care — ” he doesn’t know what’s worse. probably the latter.

“if you think i don’t feel anything for you,” kyungsoo says almost so quietly he can’t hear, “then you’re more stupid than i thought.” chanyeol can’t breathe, not with the weight of kyungsoo’s eyes on him. “i have a thousand feelings for you, good ones and bad ones, and — and you just got back. i’m still trying to figure them out. you left me, and i disappointed you, and i think we both need time. so give me that. give yourself that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise this has a happy ending
> 
> (by the way just a Tiny detail; it's bbh who collects the art pieces. yes it does come into play just a tiny bit later kudos to you if you spot where)


	2. aurora

i. 

_ park chanyeol, comedian in training. the “in training” part is important. _

_ —  _ ancient kyungsooian proverb

 

ii.

chanyeol manages to avoid café universe and therefore kyungsoo for an entire week, caught up in figuring out a particularly tricky loop. he sits holed up in his room — really, yura’s guest room — for several hours, video calling his teammates so they can work through the problem. their work is coming along nicely, the finish line looming over them with clarity, and he once again feels the rush of pride and satisfaction that makes him realize he’s not totally useless, that he made the right choices. (well, some of the right choices.)

he’s sitting on the couch trying to figure out his apartment situation (read: suffering) when his sister walks by, ruffling his hair and messing up his unruly curls even further. 

“wow, you want to leave me so soon?” she says, leaning over his shoulder to read his screen. she leaves her hand on the side of his neck and he leans into her comforting touch. “i’m hurt, chanyeollie.” 

“i know you’re tired of me,” he answers, grinning. yura smacks him on the shoulder and he pretends it hurt a lot more than it actually did, rubbing at the spot with an exaggerated pout on his face. 

“i didn’t see you at all when you were in anseong,” she points out. “just the occasional video call. you have a bad habit of doing that, you know.” 

“doing what?” he knows full well what. and it’s not a bad habit, it’s… a talent. something he’s good at. but not necessarily proud of. 

“cutting yourself off,” yura says. her eyes are sympathetic. “honestly, it’s kind of surprising for someone as outgoing as you. i know you email mom and dad, but when was the last time you visited them?” 

unsure what to say without seeming like an asshole, chanyeol stays silent. yura pats his shoulder, gentle this time. she already knows the answer to the question she asked; she goes home every chuseok. 

“they love you very much, yeol,” she says. “and they miss you. don’t forget that.” she gives him a small smile before stretching, and chanyeol notices she’s wearing one of his t-shirts. it’s an old one, a pink button down that he has absolutely no memory of buying. he doesn’t wear anything other than sportswear and too big sweaters now anyways. “hey, i bought stuff for pasta. want to help me cook?” 

chanyeol nods and goes to the bathroom to wash his hands. he glances up at the mirror; his glasses are a little crooked and he could probably use some lip balm. but there’s that look on his face, that look that can only be kyungsoo’s effect, and he smiles at his reflection before heading back out to the kitchen. he’s a fool in love given another crack at it. 

yura’s laying out the ingredients on the counter — the bow-tie pasta, the walnuts, the garlic. her sleeves are rolled up and her hair is tied back in a neat bun. chanyeol watches for a moment, a little jealous of her quiet efficiency, then leans over to preheat the oven and says casually, “i saw kyungsoo again.” 

yura pauses where she’s draining the pasta. “do kyungsoo? our do kyungsoo?” she shuts off the water carefully, nails bright yellow against the silver of the faucet handle. “ _ your _ do kyungsoo?” 

“yeah,” chanyeol says, fiddling with the string on his sweatpants and doing his best not to meet yura’s eyes. “he’s... he’s good.” 

“i know how he is,” yura says pointedly. “i’ve been to universe, remember? he wasn’t there when i visited, but…” she laughs a little. “baekhyun — have you met that kid yet?” chanyeol shakes his head. “well, he’s interesting, that’s all i’ll say. anyway, he told me that kyungsoo would always beg off sick whenever he heard i was coming over, even though he seemed fine.” she raises her eyebrow at chanyeol. “did you talk to him?” 

“i bought him lunch,” chanyeol admits, and yura looks at him sharply. “no, we’re not… it’s not the same as it was back in deokjeokdo. we both hurt each other, you know? but i miss him a lot, and i’m trying to be his friend…” he swallows, looks at yura, who always has her hair up and her life together. “am i making a mistake? i don’t want… things are so uncertain with us.” his voice drops. “i don’t really know what to do.” 

smoothing her hands over the baking sheet, she jerks her chin at the container of walnuts. “give.” chanyeol slides the container over, and she sprinkles the walnuts over the sheet, saying, “that’s not something i can tell you, yeol. but i think you’re doing the right thing. and for the record, kyungsoo probably feels exactly the same way you do right now.” she jerks her chin at him. “you gonna help or what?” 

with a pleased smile, chanyeol heats up the oil, chattering to yura about his work and his apartment search. they keep each other on their toes, the two of them, and to any casual observer it’s clear they’re siblings, looks aside. he loves yura with all his heart; she has always and unfailingly been by his side through everything. 

“this is so good,” chanyeol says through a mouthful of pasta. he crunches down on a walnut, humming slightly. “we could be some solid competition for mom and dad’s place.” their parents run an italian restaurant on deokjeokdo; it’s a favorite of the tourists, and for good reason. his parents, his mom especially, have that special touch when it comes to food. 

yura laughs. “don’t get ahead of yourself.” she stabs down with her fork, saying, “besides, you know you wouldn’t be satisfied working at a restaurant.” 

taking a sip of water, he raises his eyebrows at her. “yeah, yeah, you’re right. speaking of, i should get a job.”

“don’t you have one already?” 

“yeah,” he says, “and i know it’s a lot of late nights and scrambling to work whenever i have the time to, but.” yura wrinkles her nose at how he’s talking with his mouth full. “i could use the extra money.” as cool as composing music for video games is, it doesn’t put a lot of cash in his pocket, especially since he works freelance. once he’s paid from the ZOMNOM developer for the music, even if it is by the minute of music composed, he doesn’t get royalties — unless the music is released as a soundtrack album. 

“good luck with that, little brother, and make sure not to overwork yourself, okay,” yura says solemnly. chanyeol reaches over to squeeze her hand briefly. “so… seconds?”

 

iii.

inexplicably, the weather gets a little cooler, enough so chanyeol actually has to wear a long-sleeved shirt when he goes out. baseball cap lodged firmly on his head and his earbuds in and set to his playlist of his favorite disney songs, he heads to the nearest arcade to brush up on his skills. going to the arcade had been a semi-regular thing back when he was in college (he’d honestly preferred it to the alcohol soaked parties), but this is his first time making a visit in seoul. 

general arcade is a huge, squat building that’s styled a little like a movie theater from the outside. chanyeol pushes the door open, the interior lit dimly and punctuated with the neon lights of the various games. it seems to be a neat setup, and they’re playing some song that’s on the top of the charts right now. chanyeol wanders inwards, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair. 

he makes his way past a mortal kombat cabinet before chancing upon a very heated game of dance dance revolution between two equally enthusiastic guys. there’s who looks to be a third member of their group, standing off to the side, shaking his head every now and then.

chanyeol almost turns away, impressed as he is by the fervor with which the two combatants are going at it, before he realizes he recognizes one of them. the one on the right — it’s  _ jongin _ , hair a mess and face slicked with sweat, but that’s definitely jongin. 

the third guy notices him staring and gives him a wry smile. he’s small, with high cheekbones and pushed back black hair, and he looks entirely too used to jongin and his friend. he bows to chanyeol. “they’ve been going at it for a while,” he tells him. “it’s a battle between talent and memory.” he holds out a hand for chanyeol to shake, and chanyeol grasps it firmly, pretending to understand what he just said. “i’m jongdae, by the way.”

“chanyeol.” he crosses his arms, watching as the music comes to an end. the game lets jongin know he’s the winner, and he lets out a whoop before his friend shoves him good-naturedly off the platform. “hey, what did you mean when you said talent versus memory?” 

jongdae opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by the one chanyeol doesn’t know the name of yet. he’s just a little taller than, hair falling in brown waves around his face and a smile tugging at his mouth, face relatively free of sweat even though he’d been going at it just as hard as jongin had. he seems like the type of person to be perpetually happy, even though he’s just lost.

“hi,” he says, bowing slightly. he shakes chanyeol’s hand — or more accurately,  _ bounces _ it, up and down and back. chanyeol likes him already. “i’m baekhyun. this is —”

“we’ve met,” jongin says, smiling at chanyeol. he looks more comfortable here, less shy, eyes sparkling and head held high. the choker is still around his neck, glinting under the neon lighting. 

baekhyun is looking at him with his head tilted, a little like he’s reaching into chanyeol’s brain for all his secrets and committing them to memory. it’s unsettling and almost flattering at the same time — he’s rarely been looked at with this much  _ attention _ before. “you’re yura’s brother, aren’t you?” he smiles with the corner of his mouth. “you two look a lot alike.” 

“i… yeah,” chanyeol says. “i just moved here, actually. for my… job.” it’s a lot easier to get connections in seoul, and with his sister here it had seemed like the obvious choice.

“you’re a musician?” baekhyun says suddenly. 

“i play a few instruments — well, more than a few, but… how’d you know?” 

“you’ve been drumming your fingers on the side of your leg to the music ever since i’ve seen you,” baekhyun points out, “and your hands are calloused the way a guitar player’s hands are.” as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he twists his hands together, pressing his lips shut. 

chanyeol laughs a little nervously. “what are you, sherlock holmes?”

“not really,” baekhyun says, smiling faintly, just as jongin chimes in with a “something like that.” chanyeol gets the sudden feeling he’s said something wrong; baekhyun kind of folds into himself a little bit, sending a questioning look to jongin, who shakes his head. 

noticing his discomfort, jongdae gives him a sympathetic smile. “you any good at ddr?” 

“absolutely terrible,” chanyeol says with finality, and jongdae grins. 

“good, me too. wanna play?” 

it’s a close match, but chanyeol is the most competitive person in the entirety of seoul — really, in the entirety of korea — and he manages to pull ahead of jongdae at the last second. he hasn’t played ddr in so long he’d almost forgotten how it worked, but to his surprise it’s similar to riding a bike. step, slide, try not to trip over air and smash your face into the console because you’re twisting your legs together impossibly just to hit that one beat right. 

“those are some… low scores,” jongin says diplomatically as chanyeol and jongdae step off. 

“you’re a dancer,” jongdae complains. “you don’t get to have opinions. or to play with anyone who isn’t baekhyun or yixing — if he ever stops  _ working _ . we’re on vacation and he’s still trying to write new music; it’s infuriating.” he almost sounds like he’s whining; it’s cute.

“okay, but you’re in a band,” jongin says. “shouldn’t you do better than a — hey, chanyeol, what do you do?” 

“video game music design,” chanyeol says in a rush. 

baekhyun looks impressed. “that’s cool!”

“than a video game music designer,” jongin finishes, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “your fans would be disappointed in you.” 

something clicks in chanyeol’s brain. “wait a second! you’re a member of apokalips!” a three member rock band, apokalips had shot from relative obscurity to superstardom practically overnight, due to a mix of good looks and an even better ep — and of course, the almost infamous slogan. “you know, ‘your lips, my lips, apokalips?’”

“for the record,” jongdae says drily as jongin and baekhyun snicker, “i had nothing to do with that. it was all sehun.” 

“really,” says baekhyun, “because he says a lot differently.”

“... fine. it may have been all yixing.” 

“still lying,” baekhyun says with a hum, tapping the side of his head. jongdae shoves half-heartedly at his shoulder. 

“i’m a big fan,” chanyeol says, grinning. “i’ve followed you since your humble beginnings. do i get a prize for that?” it’s true — he’d been scrolling through soundcloud and chanced upon apokalips when they’d been on the wrong side of up-and-coming, and watched (and listened) with delight as their music — their  _ good _ music, written and composed entirely within the group — had rightfully blown up. 

“i’m sure you could convince sehun into giving you a free coffee,” jongdae answers. “or more likely one of those blueberry muffins. they’re damn good, aren’t they?” he pats at his stomach, and baekhyun’s hands reach out to do the same even as jongdae — again, half-heartedly — tries to bat them away. there’s a mix of mutual exasperated fondness in every one of their interactions. 

“hey,” jongin says, pausing in the middle of tugging a beanie over his head. it’s covering one of his ears and not the other, and baekhyun reaches over to tuck the free one underneath the fabric. “did you say you came here for your job?” 

“yeah, but as soon as i’m done with this composition i’ll be between jobs again,” chanyeol says. he runs a hand through his hair, thinking idly about how he’s known these three for such little time but there’s something about them that makes him want to go faster than just easing into a friendship. for him, making friends with people is either fumbling through awkward pleasantries in an attempt to find common ground and never actually becoming comfortable with one another or diving straight in like the beginning of an individual medley, and chanyeol’s always been good at recognizing when which method’s applicable. “actually, if any of you three know a place that’s hiring that — that would be great.” 

“funny how that is,” jongin says softly. “universe is hiring.” 

“it  _ is _ funny,” jongdae says, eyebrows drawing together a little. they’re thick and almost perfectly horizontal, like two black paint strokes above his eyes. “at some point, all of us have worked at universe. it’s kind of magical.” he smiles with teeth almost as bright and straight as baekhyun’s. “now i just go in to beg free food off minseok. he was terribly soft back then and he’s only gotten softer. like a…”

“marshmallow,” baekhyun says. “hey, did you know marshmallows were invented by the ancient egyptians around, like, 2000 BC?” he pokes his tongue into his cheek, eyelashes fluttering. “sorry.”

“the egyptians,” jongin says, smiling. “that’s cool.” after a heartbeat, baekhyun smiles back. “also, jongdae, don’t lie to our new friend. you’re in there working your ass off every time you’re not touring — all of you are.” jongdae shrugs at that, acknowledging the point. 

chanyeol chews on his bottom lip. “i want to say yes,” he admits, “but…” trailing off, he thinks about how kyungsoo works there, how he doesn’t want to overstep too soon. of course — of course it won’t be long before the two of them are drawn to each other again; they’re like magnets, one north and one south, one positive and one negative. when they’d snapped together, before, it had taken so  _ much _ to pull themselves apart. 

“it’s okay,” jongin says, flapping a hand at him. “you don’t have to make your mind up now; we are doing just fine without you. also, more importantly, i’m hungry. who’s going to buy me pizza?” 

“spoiled,” jongdae cackles, then points at baekhyun. “he will.”

“you’re the rich member of a boy band,” baekhyun says, scowling. “ _ you _ buy all of us food with the money you get from your adoring fangirls.” 

“i’m  _ hungry _ ,” jongin insists.

chanyeol has to hide a smile behind his hand; baekhyun and jongdae bicker all the way outside the arcade and to the fried chicken place next door. he’d meant to go in for a couple games and ended up with three new friends.  _ serendipity _ , he thinks, as jongdae rolls his eyes and pulls out his wallet. 

> _ i think you’ll be happy to know that forming friendships hasn’t gotten any harder for me while i’ve been away. maybe you don’t think i remember, but i do — you used to tell me stories of how when i was younger whenever we had people over i’d trap them in a hug because i didn’t want to let them leave.  _

“it’s hard winning arguments with a lawyer,” jongdae says, handing chanyeol his food. 

“lawyer to be,” baekhyun corrects. he looks a little blissed out, mouth full and eyes sparkling as much as they had when he’d come off that high of a ddr game. “law school is, sadly, a trial i still have to finish facing.” 

“a lawyer?” chanyeol says. he’s already done, and he wipes his hands on a napkin but they stay a little greasy. “that’s cool. you like arguing?” 

he has to roll his sleeves down; the night is beginning to set in and it’s getting even colder. it’s nice, not cold enough to bite, and the streetlights reflect off baekhyun’s teeth, bright, white, straight. “i like —”

“he likes winning arguments,” jongin says. he stretches his arms above his head, linking his fingers together, and baekhyun, pouting just a little, pokes him in the side of his stomach where his shirt is riding up to reveal a sliver of skin. jongin grabs his hand before he can pull it away, squeezing it with an odd look on his face. 

“he likes  _ talking _ ,” jongdae corrects, then ducks behind jongin’s larger form as a group of girls walk past them, one of them wearing an apokalips t-shirt. 

“our kim jongdae has groupies,” baekhyun says delightedly. jongdae shoves his shoulder. “can’t wait ‘til his friends find out he’s got a thing for yixing.”

“and sehun,” jongin chimes in.

“at the same time,” baekhyun says, and jongdae lets out a long groan.

“why am i friends with you two,” he says. 

“because i remember all your birthdays, and your favorite foods, and your allergies, and whatever else you think is important about you,” baekhyun says, looping one arm around jongdae’s waist and the other around chanyeol’s. chanyeol starts a little, then relaxes, leaning into baekhyun’s touch. jongdae tilts his head forward to shoot him a grin, and he smiles back. “and jongin’s an  _ angel _ .” 

said angel wraps his arms around baekhyun’s shoulders, looking a little put out that baekhyun doesn’t have an extra arm to go around him. “that’s true. hey, give me attention or i’ll cry. you don’t want to see me cry; it’s not pretty like baekhyun.” 

“actually, you’ve been spending too much time with baekhyun, i think,” jongdae says, and baekhyun slaps jongdae’s back. 

“go to space,” baekhyun says solemnly. “you can’t cry in space. your tears need gravity to flow.” 

jongin taps his chin, pretending to consider it. 

chanyeol plays along too. “but how is he supposed to get to space?” he grins. “giant slingshot?” 

“no,” jongin says immediately. “i want a rocket. a spaceship.” 

“yeah, baekhyun, why don’t you build him a fucking  _ rocket _ —”

“make sure it’s big enough for two,” chanyeol says dreamily, tipping his head back so he can gaze up at the appearing stars. “i’ve always wanted to go to space. oh —” jongin is resting his chin on baekhyun’s head, all his weight on him, and baekhyun staggers a little. “oh, this is important. do you all believe in aliens?” 

“duh,” jongin and jongdae chorus.

baekhyun hums his assent, saying, “it’s a little… egotistical of us, don’t you think, to believe that we’re the only living creatures in the entirety of the universe? especially when scientists continue to discover exoplanets? with the right conditions, who knows — maybe there’s another earth out there.” he kicks his foot up, almost skipping, pulling chanyeol and jongdae and jongin along with him. “space is really fucking cool.”

chanyeol blinks. “yeah, no kidding.” 

“what do you think aliens look like,” jongin says, “because i personally think they look a lot like jongdae.”

“jongdae _is_ an alien,” baekhyun replies as chanyeol laughs. 

“yes,” jongdae deadpans. “you got me. i’m from an exoplanet. now that you know my secret, you’ll all have to die.” he extends one of his hands at them, drawing the other across his neck in a horizontal line. 

“or you could just men in black us,” chanyeol suggests, slapping his hand away. “with your futuristic alien technology. why’d you have to jump straight to  _ murder _ —” 

“because he’s an alien,” baekhyun says, grinning wildly. “in fact, that’s where he gets his godly vocals from. no mortal can hope to hit the high notes he does.” 

“you sound like you’re quoting a fangirl on twitter,” jongdae grumbles.

“only you would  _ complain _ about a compliment —” 

“how was that  _ complaining _ —” 

their conversation peters out briefly into baekhyun and jongdae’s bickering, jongin laughing occasionally as they toss ridiculous insults back and forth. baekhyun seems far more comfortable around him and jongin; chanyeol can tell there are still walls up between the two of them, but that’s okay. they’ve only just met. 

the three of them ask chanyeol about his job, actively interested, and he reciprocates gladly. jongdae has a lot of stories about his band members that border on complaints, but the love is evident in his tone and the sparkle in his eyes when he talks about them. he tells them about a stage light malfunction that involved a complicated plot line but essentially boiled down to “it was sehun’s fault.” jongin, on the other hand, clams up a little when chanyeol asks him what he does, saying he just spends most of his time dancing if he’s not at universe. chanyeol shrugs and lets it go. 

“hey, where are we going?” chanyeol asks, hands in his pockets. they’ve been walking for a while now, baekhyun humming something under his breath whenever he’s not talking like he can’t stand to be silent. the stars are appearing above them, one by one by one. chanyeol keeps his eyes near the ground. 

“my apartment,” baekhyun says. sure enough, they reach a complex, baekhyun leading the three of them up the stairs and chattering about how this place is pretty nice for having such a low rent. chanyeol makes a mental note to check them out more later. “my roommate’s great, he —”

the door swings open, and chanyeol freezes, stepping backwards like that’s going to do anything to keep kyungsoo from seeing him. because it’s kyungsoo standing in front of them, dark eyes and small smile; it fades a little when he notices chanyeol with the other three. “oh,” he says. “hi.” 

“hi,” chanyeol says, oddly breathless for someone who’d climbed just one flight of stairs. baekhyun gives him a weird look before surging out of jongin’s backhug to wrap his arms around kyungsoo. 

“hi, soo!” he says. “you busy?” 

“no,” kyungsoo says, still looking at chanyeol. chanyeol looks back.

“this is chanyeol,” baekhyun says, resting his head on kyungsoo’s shoulder. “he’s nice and he plays a lot of instruments and is terrible at dance dance revolution. chanyeol, this is kyungsoo. he’s the best.”

“i know,” chanyeol says.  _ better than anyone.  _

“you… know?” baekhyun says. “have you two met, then?”

chanyeol is quiet, unsure what to say, so kyungsoo does it for him. “yeah,” he says, finally looking away from chanyeol. “we’ve met.”

“do you guys wanna come in, please?” baekhyun asks, not one to let awkward situations stay awkward. chanyeol watches as he puts his fingers into kyungsoo’s back pockets, wiggling them despite the look kyungsoo gives him. “what? my hands are cold.”

“so warm them in your own pockets,” kyungsoo says, but his eyes are fond and chanyeol is absolutely  _ not _ jealous because he’s not allowed to be jealous. kyungsoo isn’t his anymore, and he’s not kyungsoo’s. 

“we — i can’t,” he says, finding his voice. “i have to… uh, i don’t think that’s a great idea. but this was — it was fun! yeah, and i’ll be by universe soon. later. thanks.” he’s pretty sure his face is a very unflattering shade of red right now.

jongdae saves his ass. “can’t,” he says, corners of his lips pulled down into a frown. “us three musketeers have an appointment tonight. not — we’re not — shut  _ up _ , baekhyun — anyway! i can’t, not tonight. sorry.” 

“me either,” jongin says. baekhyun blinks up at him, the traces of a laugh still playing around his mouth, and jongin lets out an almost imperceptible sigh. “ _ no _ , baekhyun, i have deadlines.” 

“no fun,” baekhyun grumbles, but brightens when he hears the pattering of tiny feet behind him. chanyeol peeks around jongin to see a dog, then two, then three, his focus narrowing down to behind the doorway. baekhyun kneels down and is immediately attacked by three bundles of fur, and he disappears under them, laughing brightly. 

“chanyeol,” kyungsoo says, and chanyeol’s gaze snaps back to him. he’s heard his name come out of kyungsoo’s mouth in a thousand different ways, soft, demanding,  _ loving _ , and he’ll never get tired of hearing it from him. “can we talk?” 

_ can we talk _ — “yes,” chanyeol says. “yeah. cute dogs, by the way.” 

“my dog’s cutest!” he hears baekhyun yell, before kyungsoo shuts the door behind him. to his surprise, kyungsoo’s looking at him almost the same kind of way he was looking at baekhyun. soft. 

jongdae and jongin wave them goodbye, talking about drumming and coffee on the way down, and then it’s just chanyeol and kyungsoo. chanyeol and kyungsoo, standing under the lamp, both looking at each other like they’re waiting for the other to speak first. 

it’s chanyeol (of course it’s chanyeol, kyungsoo has always been so good at the tactic of waiting in silence to force the other person into talking) and he says, “hi.”

they’re back in unfamiliar territory when it comes to their conversations, when before they’d talked about anything — movies (kyungsoo had been quite the connoisseur), music, their dreams (chanyeol wanted to study space and kyungsoo wanted to be an actor). and for once, chanyeol isn’t sure how long it will take for the two of them to get in the water. 

“hi,” kyungsoo says. “do you still think i hate you?” 

“how could you,” chanyeol says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “i’m impossible to hate.” 

he kind of gets the feeling he was supposed to say something else. kyungsoo shakes his head, just a little, and says, “i don’t. i-i don’t hate you.” 

“i know,” chanyeol says. “kyungsoo.” he looks up. “i know.” they stand in silence again, just watching each other, and chanyeol thinks,  _ i know you _ . “how’d…” he’s hesitant, but... “how did it go? how is it going, rather? figuring out your feelings?” 

“my feelings for you?” kyungsoo asks. he looks small, narrow shoulders and tiny smiles and so much  _ quiet _ . he always used to fit so neatly under chanyeol’s hands. “hm. how’s it going on your end?” 

“i,” chanyeol says, “i — can we? can we be friends?” 

“is that what you want?” kyungsoo says carefully, and for the first time it hits chanyeol that kyungsoo is as uncertain as he is, that the both of them are on the same uncharted territory together. “for us to be friends? nothing…” he hesitates. “nothing more? you said something about a second chance.” 

“i do,” chanyeol says. he wants to be honest, because this is kyungsoo, and he’s honest with kyungsoo. “i want to be friends with you — a-and the truth is, i want to be more than that. i want the two of us to have that second chance, because second chances are important, but before all of that — and  _ despite _ all of that — i want to be friends with you. is that okay?” 

kyungsoo’s looking up at him. chanyeol thinks he’s beautiful. 

“okay,” he says simply, and chanyeol’s heart trips over its untied laces. 

“okay?” 

“okay.” kyungsoo nods, small and beautiful and quiet and  _ familiar _ , and chanyeol can’t help the grin that splits his face. “give me your phone.” 

they trade numbers; kyungsoo hadn’t even been allowed a phone back on the island, and it intensifies that curious itch at the back of chanyeol’s mind as to the circumstances around kyungsoo leaving. but chanyeol knows now isn’t the time to ask, and that’s okay, because they’ll get there. 

even if finding his way to kyungsoo had been a difficult journey the first time, it’s a journey he’s willing to repeat. kyungsoo  _ is _ the object of his grand quest, and he’s going to strap on his sword and mount his horse and ride face-first into whatever dangers it throws at him. 

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” chanyeol says hopefully, and kyungsoo’s smile is an answer and a promise.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i was little, i actually used to trap people whenever they came over to our apartment 'cause i'd get so upset about leaving... which is funny because now i hate social interaction and, like, people
> 
> not to be a nerd but!! nasa found the first evidence that [exoplanets exist outside the milky way](https://news.nationalgeographic.com/2018/02/exoplanets-discovery-milky-way-galaxy-spd/) which not only is really fucking cool all by itself but it also exponentially increases the chance that life very similar to that on earth exists elsewhere in the universe


	3. convergence

i.

 _your exuberance, passion,_   
_mesmerizing voice,_   
_animated actions,_   
_and eyes full of dreams_   
_captured my attention_   
_so completely,_   
_that i didn't feel_   
_the bitter taste of coffee_

 _—_ vijaya gowrisankar

  
ii.

“you text like an eighty year old man,” chanyeol grumbles, pocketing his cell phone. “do you even know what soundcloud is?” kyungsoo’s gaze is blank. “seriously, how are you younger than me?”  
  
“antagonizing me within your first week here,” kyungsoo mutters, but there’s just a hint of a smile on his face, and chanyeol does a mental victory dance. whether they’re together or not, it doesn’t matter, because eliciting a smile from kyungsoo being like winning an award is an universal feeling. chanyeol firmly believes this. “and i do not. i don’t capitalize, does that not count for anything?”

“not really,” chanyeol says.

“wait until you see junmyeon text, then.”

he’s back at the café, like he always knew he’d be, ordering the same thing all over again. two iced hazelnut lattes and a blueberry muffin. (they really are good. he gets why universe is so famous for them.) but this time around, he’s filling out an application to be a part time worker, pen in his hand. there’s a spider-man bobble head at the end of it; kyungsoo had given it to him as a gag gift seven years ago but he’d fallen in love with it. he rarely uses it — it’s the only reason it still works — but it’s his lucky pen and he thought it was appropriate.

“you don’t really need this,” kyungsoo tells him, picking his finished plate up. his eyes linger on the pen, the corner of his mouth tilted up. he’s technically still working, but he’s been hovering by chanyeol’s table for a couple minutes now. “you’ve met practically everyone who works here and they all like you.”

“do _you_ like me?” chanyeol says, grinning, and kyungsoo flushes slightly, not answering. “oh come on, kyungsoo, just let me boast about everything i’m good at. music, people, being incredibly attractive…”

“i’m going back to work,” kyungsoo says with finality, but when chanyeol peeks up at him he’s smiling. another victory.

chanyeol pulls the newspaper toward him, flipping to the comics section like he always does. there’s a specific strip he’d noticed two days ago (while eating cereal on the couch, something yura had — probably rightfully — yelled at him for) by _kai_ that’s about universe. he glances up at the sketches on the wall, remembering they were by the same person; this kai seems to be terribly talented on top of being familiar with the café. chanyeol wonders if he’s a regular customer or something.

this particular one has a scene of kyungsoo and baekhyun and an unruly customer — he recognizes kyungsoo’s wide eyes and baekhyun’s rectangular grin. whoever it is, they’re familiar with the two of them, capturing kyungsoo’s gravity with ease and taking extra care with the curve of baekhyun’s eyes when he smiles.

his phone alerts him of an email from his mom, and he files it away so he can come back to it when he’s feeling particularly homesick. it used to be that he always read the emails as soon as he received them, but the ache, the longing, has eased considerably in the past four years.

 _hey, chuseok is soon_ , the tiny, traitorous part of his mind supplies, and chanyeol stifles a groan. he should go back — he _knows_ this, and yet. and yet he hasn’t been able to bring himself to for the past several years.

 _you’re running away_. this time, the admonishing voice in his head sounds an awful lot like kyungsoo’s.

speaking of, kyungsoo’s back, hovering again, except this time he sets a pack of flashcards down in front of chanyeol. “they’re for types of drinks,” he explains at chanyeol’s questioning look. “i know for sure you don’t know the difference between making a macchiato and a latte. and it’s not the same as actual experience but it helped me when i was first starting out.”

chanyeol shuffles through the cards, grinning so widely he probably looks foolish. they’re covered with kyungsoo’s neat handwriting and little diagrams he’d made on the flip side. “you made flashcards. that’s — that’s cute.” his heart does that thing where it melts, just a little.

“cu — it’s _not_ cute,” kyungsoo protests. clearly, he takes compliments the same way he did five years ago, ducking his head bashfully and flushing a light pink. it had taken a while for him to get to that point, though; it used to be that every time chanyeol complimented him he’d get angry, like he was being lied to or misled or used. every time chanyeol remembers it makes him a thousand times angrier at kyungsoo’s dad.

he could push, a little. he has the feeling if he did kyungsoo would let him. he has the feeling if he chose this moment to pull kyungsoo into his lap and kiss him dizzy, kyungsoo would let him. he just doesn’t think that would solve anything.

“chanyeol,” kyungsoo says, and he startles, afraid his mind was being read. kyungsoo has the uncanny ability to do that sometimes, reach into his brain and pull out the things he’s struggling to say. chanyeol had been even better at it, forming words from kyungsoo’s looks with ease. “you don’t need it but… good luck.”

he really needs to tell his heart to tie its shoes.

a whistling baekhyun walks past them, rag in hand, then backtracks. he sets his hands down on the table and braces himself on them, trying to read what chanyeol’s writing upside down. “hey, soo, minseok is totally going to yell at you any moment now.” he winks at chanyeol. “just thought i’d give you a heads up.”

“go do your job, baekhyunnie,” kyungsoo grumbles, and chanyeol swears he hears baekhyun whisper a cheery _hypocrite_ under his breath as he walks away. there’s a moment of silence, and chanyeol sets his pen down.

“you know that john lennon song? how?” chanyeol taps incessantly on the table, a nervous habit he’s retained since his childhood days. it’s why he’d started to learn the drums, and then the guitar, and then the piano — to dispel all of that energy into something far more productive and pleasing to the ears. he does it without even realizing it now — but baekhyun had noticed, back at the arcade.

  
“‘how can i go forward when i don’t know which way i’m facing?’” baekhyun quotes from where he’s wiping the table adjacent to them. when kyungsoo and chanyeol turn toward him at the same time, he shrugs. “my mom loved that song and i looked up the lyrics to it so i could sing it to her on her birthday. ‘cause i’m a good son.” when chanyeol sneaks a look, he sees kyungsoo glaring at baekhyun over the top of his glasses, and he has to suppress a snicker. “okay, sorry! get back to your heart-to-heart before minseok hyung catches you.”  
  
“as i was saying,” chanyeol begins again, clearing his throat, “i-i felt like that. cooped up in deokjeokdo, with my future all laid out for me — follow in my mother’s footsteps and take over viva polo, catering for tourists all my life... i couldn’t do it. i wanted more, but i didn’t know what. i just thought i could find it in school, so i left.”  
  
“chanyeol —“  
  
“hey!” minseok says, appearing out of absolutely nowhere to snap his rag at the two of them. “what did i say about personal problems? if you two are gonna work whatever’s going on with you out, you’re going to do it off café universe property. understand?” chanyeol jumps in his seat, then nods rapidly. minseok can be quite scary when he wants to. “good! your break’s over; get back to work.”

“minseok, you’re closed —” chanyeol begins, and only gets an unimpressed look back.

“stop distracting kyungsoo or i won’t let you in the place after hours,” minseok threatens, and chanyeol shuts up.

 

 

 

“you don’t have to feel bad about leaving, you know?” kyungsoo tells him quietly. chanyeol is walking him back to his apartment, and above them, the sky is dark, punctuated often with the lights of the city. chanyeol isn’t sure, but he thinks kyungsoo is also remembering the way the night had looked in deokjeokdo, littered with stars, especially above jagalmadang beach. the two of them had spent a lot of time there, pebbles underfoot, and chanyeol had mapped out kyungsoo’s face the way astronomers did constellations. “i was angry at you for so long, because it felt like you were giving up on me. on us. but now i realize that if you had stayed, it would’ve meant giving up on yourself, and that decision would have hung over you for a lifetime.”

chanyeol is quiet, because it’s clear kyungsoo’s not done.

“just… it wouldn’t have been that way if you had just said something, chanyeol. i wouldn’t have made you stay. the last thing i ever wanted was to hold you back.”

chanyeol’s eyes widen. “kyungsoo, you never —”

“i don’t want to talk about it,” kyungsoo says. “not… not yet. this is nice. figuring this — _us_ — out again… it’s nice.”

“your promise still holds, right?”

kyungsoo holds up a pinky in response, and smiling, chanyeol hooks his own with kyungsoo’s.

 

iii.

through some miracle or maybe baekhyun’s observational skills, word gets out in the universe grapevine that chanyeol’s looking for a roommate.

(he goes in for an interview with minseok for the job and they spend the entirety of it arguing about whether cats or dogs are better. chanyeol doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they’re both equal to him because minseok is _really_ invested, and he gets the job so it doesn’t matter anyway. he then gets added to the universe group chat and his phone will not stop going off with notifications of baekhyun seeking attention or minseok and junmyeon trading similarly awful puns. he hasn’t even met junmyeon yet.)

 **민석** : why don’t you just join baekhyun and kyungsoo

 **백현** : are u kidding. do i look like i want to third wheel

 **백현** : u should try jongin he’s been looking for a roommate ;-)

 **백현** : hey jongin

 **백현** : jongin

 **백현** : jongin

 **종인** : I’m down

it’s followed by a yellow heart and a bear emoji, and that’s that. things are looking up for chanyeol; he has two jobs, he doesn’t have to room with his sister anymore, and _kyungsoo_. (he rarely talks in the chat, his on screen presence just as quiet as his real life one. chanyeol wouldn’t have it any other way.)

and sure, chanyeol’s known for being friendly, but he’s never before clicked with people like he has with them before. sometimes he wonders how it would’ve been if he’d stayed, if they both had stayed, but then they wouldn’t have this and chanyeol thinks this family they’ve created is just as important to kyungsoo, if not even more so.

 

 

hey : **찬열**

wanna go for a drive?????? : **찬열**

it’s a lot like it used to be. kyungsoo stares out the window, face blank, but when chanyeol looks down at his hands they’re steady. they don’t shake the way they used to. in fact — and it keeps hitting him — kyungsoo looks good. he looks _good_ — he’d always looked beautiful, and a little delicate, and a little scared, too. but now he looks good, so healthy and golden and thick, like he’s been dipped in honey. being away from his father is treating him well.

“you’re still listening to disney soundtracks,” kyungsoo says, and chanyeol stares at him for a bit too long. “and you’re still not keeping your eyes on the road.” chanyeol looks back, quick, and kyungsoo says, “if we crash —”

“we won’t,” chanyeol says immediately, but he’s not talking about the car and he’s not sure. “disney soundtracks are the best soundtracks. i’ve watched mulan about seventy more times in the past four years.”

kyungsoo snickers. “still have that crush on li shang?”

“he’s dreamy,” chanyeol says firmly, and kyungsoo lets out a little laugh, almost unconsciously reaching out for chanyeol’s hand, which is resting in the space between them in all its braceleted glory. (there’s one his mom had given him six years ago that he hasn’t taken off since. there’s one yura had made for him when they were kids that he hasn’t taken off since. there’s one kyungsoo had given for him on his birthday that he hasn’t taken off since.) he realizes what he’s doing halfway there and lets his own hand drop, awkward.

and chanyeol’s head is filled with a thousand memories of drives just like this, just in a quieter place, where kyungsoo would reach over with no hesitation to grab at chanyeol’s fingers, where chanyeol would rub his thumb over kyungsoo’s skin and try and focus on the road, where kyungsoo would lift their joined hands up so he could press a soft kiss to their chanyeol’s palm.

“you got a tattoo,” kyungsoo says, voice just a little shaky, and chanyeol opens the fist he had made. nods a little when kyungsoo looks at him, eyes dark and framed by even darker eyelashes. lets him ease his fingers apart so he can see the little _loey_ inked into his skin. “loey.” it sounds good on kyungsoo’s tongue, and he shudders a little, fingers twitching closed around kyungsoo’s.

“it’s — can i talk about this? are you okay with that?”

“yes,” kyungsoo says. “yes, tell me.”

“when i moved out to anseong, i didn’t really know what i was going,” chanyeol says, hyperaware of kyungsoo’s hand. neither of them have pulled away. “i had big dreams but… i was a bit lost. i’d left everything familiar behind, right?” kyungsoo runs his index finger down the side of chanyeol’s hand. chanyeol can’t tell if he did it on purpose. “everything but music — i knew what to do with that. so i started creating a-and everything i was feeling at that moment was going straight into my music and i guess it was good enough because i kept putting it on soundcloud and people _liked_ it? they liked my stuff, soo” — the nickname slips out without him even realizing it — “and i was. i was so proud of myself. i was finally doing what i’d always wanted to do.”

“following your dreams,” kyungsoo says. he hooks his pinky through chanyeol’s.

“following my dreams,” chanyeol echoes, heart stuttering. “loey’s my producer name. it’s the best version of me.”

“okay,” kyungsoo says, and he’s smiling and it’s more than just _okay_ and chanyeol knows it.

“okay?”

“okay,” kyungsoo repeats. “i’m proud of you, too.”

chanyeol doesn’t know what to say, so for once he keeps his mouth shut, just feeling. feeling the rush of gratitude and pride and surprise and love (because he still loves kyungsoo — loves his every breath, every word, every move. how could he not?) blooming in his chest. feeling the weight of kyungsoo’s hand against his.

“there’s,” chanyeol begins, and he has to clear his throat before he can continue. “there’s a new marvel movie coming out soon.”

“i know.”

“do you… do you want to see it?”

kyungsoo is silent for several moments and chanyeol has to force himself not to analyze them, not to analyze the non-expression on his face. “like a date?” he asks finally.

“...no,” chanyeol says. “no, soo. not yet. not until we have that talk we need to have. and i know you’re not ready for it yet, and that’s okay, but not until then.”

kyungsoo’s smile is so sudden and bright chanyeol is almost blinded. “as friends, then. i’ll go with you. keep your eyes on the road, yeol.”

 

iv.

setting the box down, chanyeol kicks a foot at baekhyun’s leg, dangling over the couch. he’s playing some kind of rhythm game, growling softly in frustration ever so often. “you know, for someone in law school you’re awfully lazy.”

“i lost because of you and now we’re eternal enemies,” baekhyun says pointedly, putting his phone away and stretching. he blinks, hiding a yawn behind his hand. chanyeol is reminded suddenly and absolutely of a puppy.

“i don’t understand how you don’t get tired of those games,” jongin says, patting down a stray tuft of baekhyun’s hair. “you play through a new song once and then you know where everything is and you get a perfect the next time.”

“that,” baekhyun says, “is not true. sometimes my head goes faster than my fingers. besides, it’s nice being on top. i have to maintain that, don’t i?”

“how about you maintain your presence in this apartment by helping us move my stuff,” chanyeol says, picking up a pillow and holding it over baekhyun’s head threateningly.

chanyeol had spent the entirety of yesterday packing, with yura’s help, folding his life into cardboard boxes. (there wasn’t much of it.)

“you’re still in the process of moving in, you don’t get kick-baekhyun-out privileges yet.” baekhyun reaches up to poke a finger into the pillow, still not getting up. jongin lets out a soft chuckle, fingers resting against baekhyun’s cheek. “i’ve never been kicked out of anywhere before.”

“hard to believe,” chanyeol mutters, popping the joints in his knuckles. baekhyun winces at every sound.

“kyungsoo never brings anyone over and sexiles me,” baekhyun grumbles. “being sexiled is a life-altering experience. i deserve to have it.” chanyeol fights to keep his face from turning too red, but it must not work, because baekhyun tilts his head with his eyes as bright and sharp as ever on chanyeol. “you know…” and his voice is slower now, eyes flicking up to jongin and back down, “sometimes your sister came on tv, and every time she did kyungsoo would grab the remote and change the channel. he never told me why.”

“oh,” chanyeol might have said.

“but,” baekhyun says, “he talks about you now. sometimes. and when he does, he smiles that really nice smile of his. i mean — all of his smiles are nice, but this one’s… this one’s really nice.”

“oh,” chanyeol might have said again.

baekhyun swings his feet off the sofa, standing. “you still want some help?”

 

 

 

they sit around the counter, eating jajangmyeon and talking. it’s nice, just the three of them, jongin’s shyness and baekhyun’s sharpness and chanyeol’s _chanyeol_ , too big limbs and ears and smiles. he tells them about college, about audio engineering, skirting around anything that involves his family or deokjeokdo. they listen and they don’t pry and chanyeol is comfortable.

“oh,” chanyeol says, remembering something. he digs into his backpack to pull out a couple strips of _my little universe_ , the comics about the café he especially liked. “whoever draws these knows a lot about universe. do you know this kai person?” truth be told, he wants to be friends with him. anyone who can capture the balance between kyungsoo’s dry humor and warm heart through art is remarkable in his book.

baekhyun lets out a little laugh as jongin stares down at the strips. “oh, yeah, we know kai.”

“yeah, you could say that,” jongin agrees, the corner of his mouth finally tilting up. baekhyun pats his cheek, still laughing, and gets up to fill a glass with water.

“he’s good,” chanyeol says eagerly. “really good. can you introduce me?”

jongin looks at him for a long moment, silent, then holds out his hand. “hello.”

chanyeol stares. “what?”

“hello, i’m kai,” jongin says, and in the kitchen, baekhyun doubles over.

  


 

i’m still??? : **찬열**

how did i not connect the dots : **찬열**

 **백현** : yea ur kinda dum

 **백현** : u’ve SEEn his foam art

 **종인** : Guys…

 **준면** : Let me guess. You just found out Jongin is Kai.

 **백현** : lol he almost ran out of his apartment

did not!!!!!! : **찬열**

 

 

 

chanyeol finally gets to meet junmyeon when he rolls back into town with his expensive car and his dark shades and his immaculately styled red hair. turns out junmyeon has a nice cushy job as makeup artist for apokalips, and he absolutely does not need to be working at universe, but minseok is one of his oldest friends and he likes the idea of dropping by to help out once in a while.

“we’ve all worked here at some point in our lives,” junmyeon explains as he ties the apron behind him. “the three musketeers all did, too, before they made it big. in fact, those blueberry muffins you and the rest of korea loves were sehun’s family’s recipe, so you can thank him for ‘heaven in your mouth,’ as he so eloquently puts it.”

“i think he deserves to call it that,” chanyeol says solemnly, and junmyeon cackles. he has a nice laugh, nice teeth, nice cheeks. “hey, we should all go out sometime. three musketeers included.” everyone calls them that; chanyeol has an inkling that it’s because saying _apokalips_ brings up their tagline, something they all seem to almost desperately want to avoid.

this is chanyeol’s first morning shift, and minseok stops by, looking like he’s swallowed something funny. “it’s almost nine. you know what that means.”

junmyeon lets out a little groan. “oh, no.”

“oh, yes,” minseok says ominously, then takes pity on a bewildered chanyeol. “you know how we offer rewards cards to our regulars? one of our customers bought 365 of them — i know — and loaded a different birthday onto each one. so he comes in every damn day for a free drink.”

“and not just any drink,” junmyeon says, running his hands through his hair. “no, he has to have it _exactly_ the way he wants. non-fat, no-whip, 140-degrees, three-and-a-half-pump caramel latte with exactly one inch of foam.” he recites it like he’s heard it a hundred times, which… he probably has.

“that,” chanyeol says, “is really smart.”

“i _know_ ,” minseok says. “i can’t even be mad at him.” he grins that grin of his, all teeth and gums, clapping chanyeol on the back. “good luck, boys. make me proud.”

“he has a bit of a savior complex,” junmyeon says fondly when minseok’s gone.

the first of the customers begin to trickle in, and sure enough, one of them gets a free drink on their rewards card. he’s an older man, in his late forties maybe, hair already graying and glasses slipping down his nose. chanyeol respects him.

“happy birthday,” he tells the man solemnly, and he looks startled for a second before grabbing his coffee and raising it in a kind of salute.

he is, however, not at all the strangest customer they get that day. it’s almost noon when chanyeol sets a cup of coffee down on the counter for a customer, but before she can even get to it the woman standing next to her, blond and harried, snatches it for herself.

“um,” the rightful owner says. “i think that’s mine.”

“well,” the blonde lady snaps, “i’ve been waiting long enough, don’t you think? i have places to be. i’ll just take this and you can have the next one.”

chanyeol is _gaping_ , but junmyeon has the air of someone who deals with this on a regular basis. voice calm and kind, he says, “ma’am, the coffees are all custom made. yours will be out in a moment; if you could just hand the lady her drink —”

the blonde lady looks down at the coffee in her hand, up at the woman standing next to her, at junmyeon and chanyeol, then turns on her heel and runs for the door.

“what the _fu_ —” chanyeol begins, but a short scuffle later baekhyun, who had been wiping tables near the entrance, marches up with his hand held to the blond lady’s back. there’s a reluctant exchange of coffees, and crisis averted, baekhyun gives them both a cheery wave before disappearing again.

chanyeol swears his brain is short-circuiting.

“well,” junmyeon says with a sigh, “that one’s making _my little universe_ for sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why is formatting on here so hard
> 
> the thing with the guy and his ingenious plan [actually happened](http://www.cbc.ca/news/trending/worst-starbucks-customer-ever-1.3199442)


	4. interlude, the first

**준면** : We should all do something together before The Three Musketeers and I have to leave again.

ohmy god kyungsoo was right : **찬열**

i was waiting for u to stop but….. u just keep doing it. over and over : **찬열**

**준면** : What? 

**백현** : dont do it

**백현** : ull confuse the poor old man

**종인** : So is this gonna b like an initiation ceremony

let’s do bowling : **찬열**

**민석** : oh boy. 

**백현** : u want us all 

**백현** : to do competitive sports together 

**종인** : How come minseok texts like that tho

**준면** : I’m confused.

**백현** : dont be. i plan on kicking your ass at bowling

**백현** : hope ur ready xx 

hey how come the three musketeers never text in here : **찬열**

**종대** : we’re busy. 

**백현** : like… fucking?

**종인** : Baekhyun

**준면** : Baekhyun.

**민석** : baekhyun

**세훈** : bakehyyu

**艺兴** : baekhyun, 

well, question answered : **찬열**

**종대** : see, baekhyun, unlike u we have Fans and Fame

**종대** : & we must work to please them

**백현** : :~[

**백현** : i dont slave away for hours reading thick ass tiny print books abt law [which is not as fascinating as u would THINK] for this

why r ur smileys so creepy tf : **찬열**

**세훈** : lemem knwo when yall don fightinf 

r u drunk : **찬열**

**민석** : no he just types like he’s going through a crisis 24/7

**준면** : You know, I don’t see the point in being lazy when it comes to texting. 

**백현** : my smileys r not!!!!!! creepy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

**백현** : theyre cute like me!!!!!!!!!! :~]

**세훈** : oh mygdo hunmyien stfu

**세훈** : u cnst b lazy when texting bht u can b lazy when it comek to cleanjng ur room?????

**艺兴** : he has a point

**종대** : im out byE

**경수** : can you all shut up 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> raise your hand if you also mute every single gc you're in


	5. proximity

i.

_ how long has it been since you and me? hugs and kisses. blankets and snuggles. our sparks smoldering without a fireplace. losing time is not losing you. it strengthens my yearning for you. _

_ —  _ fidelis o mkparu

 

ii.

“we’re going to start with a heart,” jongin says, motioning for chanyeol to move closer. “it’s pretty basic, but i’ll still do all of it from the beginning so you know the whole process. now, this is going to need a lot of patience, and even more important, whole milk.” 

“whole milk?” 

“yep,” baekhyun says. he’s watching jongin work, head propped up on his hands. “skim milk doesn’t have any fat in it so you can’t make foam with it. wish some of the customers knew that before they tried ordering skim milk with a lot of foam.” he flashes his teeth in a smile, there and gone. “the best ratio is three ounces of whole milk to an ounce of espresso, with the milk steamed between a hundred and forty and 160 degrees.”

chanyeol raises his eyebrows. “how come jongin’s the one teaching me?” 

“well, he’s the artist,” baekhyun says, running his tongue over his lower lip. “i just know things.” jongin looks up to give him a brief smile. 

“make sure your milk doesn’t have any bubbles,” jongin says, pounding the pitcher on the counter. his voice is softer than baekhyun’s, but out of everyone chanyeol’s met in universe he has by far the loudest laugh. “and when you pour it, make sure it’s held high above your cup, which is tilted —”

“forty-five degrees,” baekhyun chimes in. 

“— toward you,” jongin says. “and go slow. like i said, patience is important.” he demonstrates, and chanyeol watches him fill the cup with the milk until it’s almost the way full. he then brings the pitcher down, shaking his hand slightly to create a ripple effect, then pulls it back up at the end to draw a line in the foam for the heart’s point. 

“whoa,” chanyeol says. jongin laughs a little, letting chanyeol stare at it for a couple more seconds before he hands the coffee to baekhyun, who bounces a little as he takes it. 

jongin rubs at the star at his throat, still smiling. “wanna give it a shot?”

“yeah,” chanyeol says, knowing he’s doomed to fail. “hey, nice necklace.”

baekhyun takes a really loud sip; jongin looks down at where his hand is and says, “thanks. baekhyun has a good eye for pretty things.” 

“i do, don’t i?” baekhyun’s tongue pokes out to try and lick away his foam mustache. jongin, all pink hair and soft eyes, laughs a little, handing him a napkin, and chanyeol gets the feeling baekhyun wasn’t talking about the necklace. 

 

iii.

it’s nice, going to the movies with kyungsoo. he stands in line, mentally composing another email (his mind is a lot…  _ bubblier _ than it was just a few weeks ago), and buys popcorn for himself and nachos for kyungsoo. 

“i asked for extra cheese,” chanyeol tells him, and kyungsoo smiles up and up and up at him. 

chanyeol is  _ rich _ off of kyungsoo’s smiles. he’s hoarded every one of them ever since he started getting them, so many years ago, and he’s sitting on metaphorical piles of kyungsoo’s happiness. it’s a heady rush, having more power than anyone else in this entire world. 

the movie is good but it’s made a thousand times better just with the knowledge of kyungsoo’s presence beside him. he’s missed this almost as much as he’s missed kissing kyungsoo — the quiet moments, kyungsoo leaning his head onto chanyeol’s shoulder, chanyeol leaning over to wipe a spot of cheese off the corner of kyungsoo’s mouth. he feeds kyungsoo a bit of his popcorn and kyungsoo dips a nacho into the cheese, smothering it, before shoving it into chanyeol’s waiting mouth. 

“you’re gross,” kyungsoo tells him as he chews with an open-mouthed smile. chanyeol sticks his tongue out at him. 

at the risk of it seeming too much like a date, they don’t go for dinner afterwards, although chanyeol does end up walking kyungsoo home anyway. they swap customer horror stories on the way back; kyungsoo tells him about a kid who’d stolen a lobster and put it in the men’s restroom (“there’s  _ no way _ that’s real!” “i wish i was making it up! minseok had that thing for dinner that day and he invited all of us to it.”) and chanyeol retaliates with a thrilling anecdote of a man who had asked what types of dairy they had and then proceeded to get angry at them for not listing almond milk (“i mean… we  _ have _ almond milk, but i swear he was in his thirties. how are you in your thirties and you don’t know that dairy comes from a cow?”). 

chanyeol discovers he still has the ability to make kyungsoo laugh like — like  _ that _ , giggles spilling out of him, eyes and nose crinkled and mouth stretched wide. there’s a burn in his chest like he’s been running a marathon for hours and he can just now see the finish line. 

“hey,” chanyeol says. they’re back at the door to kyungsoo and baekhyun’s apartment, the light overhead. kyungsoo is still smiling, and the cold and the laughter have made his face a little rosy, and chanyeol wants to put his hands on his cheeks and never let go. 

“hey,” kyungsoo says back. when he blinks, his eyelashes rest on his cheeks, and chanyeol thinks,  _ you’re so pretty _ . 

“we’re all going bowling tomorrow,” chanyeol says. “you’re coming, right?” 

“yeah.” kyungsoo shuffles his feet a little, the only indication that he’s nervous. “this was nice, chanyeol.” 

“good,” chanyeol says immediately. “good.”  _ i love you _ . “i’m glad you’re comfortable.” kyungsoo had always been so  _ withdrawn _ , back then, curling up into his shell like a turtle and only coming out with a lot of coaxing. chanyeol had been particularly good at that.

“i…” kyungsoo’s looking at him, and looking and looking. “chanyeol?” 

“what?”

he looks away. “nothing. thank you.” 

“yeah,” chanyeol says, throat a little dry, “it’s not a problem. again some time?” 

“okay,” kyungsoo whispers, and this time chanyeol feels good about letting him slip away for the night.

 

iv.

the three musketeers are all equally average at bowling, chanyeol finds. baekhyun has his moments and so does jongin, but minseok and junmyeon undeniably  _ suck _ . 

“i love you guys,” chanyeol says, delighted. “you’re going to give me easy wins.” beside him, kyungsoo snorts under his breath, and chanyeol rounds on him. “don’t laugh, soo! i’ve actually gotten a lot better. perfected my craft.” 

“so you left on a journey to become bowling grand champion,” kyungsoo says, deadpan, and chanyeol bumps his hip. and it’s okay. 

they’re in one general arcade’s bowling rooms; each one of them is themed and this one’s theme is star wars. there’s a giant cutout of chewbacca and it’s eyes are following chanyeol around. he’s been stared down by a giant furry beast. 

“loser buys drinks for everyone,” yixing says; the look on his face is of someone who knows they’ll end up somewhere in the middle. junmyeon protests, but stops when even minseok throws up his hands and signs off. 

“did  _ you _ get any better?” chanyeol asks kyungsoo.

he shakes his head. “no,” he says with a tiny laugh. “you were the one who always dragged me out to bowl anyway.” 

“oh,” chanyeol says. oh. because he had been — he just… hadn’t thought of the fact that kyungsoo wouldn’t have gone without him. 

“you were the one who always dragged me out to do pretty much anything,” kyungsoo says softly, and chanyeol is so distracted during his first turn that he ends up making a gutterball. 

“ _ you’re _ a bowling champ?” baekhyun says. he’s cut his hair; it’s cropped close to his neck but there’s a swoop of it falling into his eyes, and he brushes it away impatiently. 

chanyeol rubs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “oh, don’t worry,  _ eternal enemy _ ,” he says, popping his knuckles and watching with delight as baekhyun winces again. “as if i’ll ever let you beat me.”

sure enough, chanyeol takes the first game with ease, eliciting a chorus of groans and protests from everyone else there. even kyungsoo looks mildly impressed, tugging at his elbow to ask, “did you spend all of your time at college bowling or something?” 

“oh, shut up,” chanyeol says, dramatically yanking his arm away from kyungsoo, whose eyes crinkle. it’s like winning the lottery on a daily basis. “i will have you know that —” 

“chanyeol, we’re blindfolding you,” jongdae announces. “for the second game.”

“wait, who even lost this one,” sehun says from the corner, and they all turn and point at him. he splutters. “how did i lose when junmyeon  _ exists _ —” 

“hey!” junmyeon says, as minseok goes, “beginner’s luck.”

“neither of you are beginners,” yixing says, “the luck part is probably right, though.” 

“um,” chanyeol says, “can we go back to the part where you’re blindfolding me?"

“i bet you’d like that,” kyungsoo says, looking like he’s contemplating something.

chanyeol turns bright red. “not — no, not i-in the context of… of  _ bowling _ —”

“fine,” baekhyun says loudly, drawing all their attention to him. “we won’t blindfold you for the risk of an awkward boner.” chanyeol puts his head in his hands. “but you do have to follow some rules to make it more fair.”

“it’s not my fault you are all terrible —” 

baekhyun speaks right over him, incredibly loud for someone so small. “sehun, our lovely loser” — he blows him an obnoxious kiss, to which sehun responds by pretending to throw it away — “yells out a random number between one and ten.”

“why ten,” chanyeol says, and baekhyun gives him a look like he’s being the dumbest person on the planet.

“because there are ten pins,” baekhyun says slowly. “actually, did you know, when bowling was first introduced in the united states — where modern day bowling originates —  _ nine _ pins were used, but then a law was introduced in connecticut that banned it because it was associated with gambling and crime, and people added the extra pin to…” he trails off, flushing darkly. “sorry. that’s not interesting.” 

there’s an immediate sound of protest from nearly everyone, and jongin says, “i care. we care.”

“um,” baekhyun says, not looking at chanyeol, “anyway. ten pins, and sehun picks, and you have to hit that many pins. if you don’t, you get a zero, no matter what the scoreboard says. if you do, it’s equivalent to a strike.” 

“that is next to impossible,” chanyeol complains as kyungsoo’s small hands push him towards the balls. “i can’t believe you’re all doing this to me. i shouldn’t have trusted you.” 

“you’ve even gotten better at whining,” kyungsoo says from behind him. chanyeol clutches his hand to his chest where his heart is. 

“whatever,” chanyeol says, raising his fist and shaking it. “i’ll show you all. and hey, baekhyun?” 

“yeah?” he’s pressing into jongin’s chest like he wants to disappear, face still a little red. 

“i think it’s cool that you know so many things,” chanyeol tells him, then leans down to pick up a ball. when he looks up, baekhyun and jongin have matching grins on their faces. 

kyungsoo pulls at his elbow again, and he looks down and down and down at him. his eyes are a little wider than usual, lips a little parted. “chanyeol.” 

“what?” he’s a little confused. 

kyungsoo hesitates, seeming to realize they’re in a room full of people. “ah, never mind. just bowl. try not to make yourself look bad; i’ll get second-hand embarrassment.” 

“you hurt me,” chanyeol says flatly. “step back. i must find my zen.”

“zen… ten!” sehun shouts. “ten!” 

baekhyun boos as junmyeon says, “but he’s good at getting strikes, you idiot!” but it’s all just background noise to chanyeol. he lets his world narrow down to the ball, the lane, the pins — and flicks his wrist. the ball thunders down the lane, every pin falling in a satisfying cascade. 

“fuck  _ yeah _ ,” he says, arms held high, and baekhyun boos even louder. there’s a flurry of arguing, most of it directed at sehun, but chanyeol’s too busy gloating to really care.

“seven seven se _ ven _ ,” sehun says the next time, anxious not for a repeat, and chanyeol readies himself again, staring down the pins like they’re enemy soldiers on a battlefield. 

seven of the pins go down, but an eighth one near the outside wobbles, dangerously close to tipping over, and chanyeol murmurs a litany of “please please  _ please _ ” under his breath — 

but it topples. 

“no,” chanyeol whispers, sinking to his knees in anguish. “ _ no _ .” he shakes his head, fingers digging into his knees. “no. no, no, no…” 

“zero!” baekhyun says, clapping his hands delightedly. “zero!”

he stands to see jongin cackling wildly at chanyeol’s antics, repeatedly hitting an unaffected baekhyun on the arm, and sehun looking like he’s finally won the lottery. but by far the most important, kyungsoo is outright laughing — no,  _ giggling _ , eyes trained on chanyeol. 

he loses the second game. (baekhyun wins, wiggling his ass in a little victory dance and shoving his fingers into chanyeol’s chest with glee. he’s cute and chanyeol lets him.) this time, minseok has the lowest score. he gives sehun his best glare, and sehun backs away, intimidated. 

“why can’t one of you just be terrible and lose consistently,” jongdae complains. 

“you’re all equally terrible,” chanyeol points out, and minseok digs his elbow into his stomach. 

“i don’t think we thought out the rules of this game very well,” junmyeon says, linking his hands together and stretching his arms over his head. the top of his underwear peeks out over his jeans. it’s pink. 

“minseok and sehun and whoever loses the third game can play rock paper scissors to figure it out,” yixing says. “unless one of them loses again. then they’re the  _ loser _ loser.” 

jongdae links his hand with sehun’s, squeezing. “you heard him, sehun. make us proud.” 

“i can’t tell if you’re telling me to lose or not,” sehun says, face a little pink. 

“lose,” jongdae and yixing chorus, and sehun looks terribly offended. 

there’s another round of arguments about what to do to chanyeol next and his equally as vehement insistence that they play fair, and eventually kyungsoo says, “you might as well let him bowl normally. he won’t come in last anyway, and we’re not playing to win. we’re playing not to lose.” 

chanyeol almost lets an automatic “i love you” slip, yanking it back from the tip of his tongue at the last moment, but it’s got to be written all over his face because kyungsoo is poking his tongue into his cheek and avoiding his eyes. 

“fine,” baekhyun grumbles, and they scatter. 

this round is a lot more subdued; they’re all tiring and hungry — apart from minseok and sehun, of course, both trying their hardest not to lose again. to everyone’s surprise, it’s jongin who comes in last, and he shrugs, holding his fist out. they play through a round of rock paper scissors, and jongin crashes and burns. he doesn’t look too surprised. 

“i have the worst luck,” he says mournfully. “especially when it comes to bowling.”

“one time,” baekhyun says, “he tried running with the ball at the pins to score better —” 

“but the thing came down” — jongin flaps his hand — “and took the pins away before i could.” there’s a pout evident in his voice, and baekhyun laughs up at him. “i guess i’m buying you all pizza then. orders?” 

as soon as he says  _ pizza _ , they all crowd around him, clamoring for his attention. he pulls out his phone, typing away, and chanyeol pulls kyungsoo away as soon as they’re both done telling him what they want. 

they collapse on one of the sofas, and chanyeol very casually puts his arm up behind kyungsoo, who gives him a look like he knows exactly what he’s doing. but he doesn’t say anything. he looks a little tired, and they’re all tired, but —

“are you… okay?” chanyeol asks quietly. the lights are a mix of orange and white overhead, dim. he wants to hold kyungsoo’s hand. “this is… there’s a lot of us. we’re loud. it’s not too much for you, right?” 

“chanyeol, i’m better than i was four years ago,” kyungsoo says, voice steady. “it’s not as… overwhelming. and i’ve been around this group for a while now, you know.” he hesitates, probably searching for the right words to say, and chanyeol lets him think. “but. but, thank you, yeol. you always… you always cared so much. still care. thank you for that.” 

“of course i care, soo,” chanyeol says. “i always have. you know that.” 

“but…” kyungsoo sucks in a breath. “but why? why would you try so hard for me, why would you —” 

“pizza!” comes jongin’s yell, and there’s a chorus of  _ pizza! _ s after him and what seems to chanyeol like a stampede of boys pretending to be men. when he looks back at kyungsoo, he’s all closed up again, turtle in its shell. 

“come on,” chanyeol says, soft soft  _ soft _ , and extends his hand. 

kyungsoo takes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanna go bowling with exo......... not only does torturing pcy sound like a ton of fun but it's also one of the few sports i moderately enjoy participating in (also remember when bbh dropped (?) that electric shocker thing on the floor and then,, apologized to the floor wow i love that boy)


	6. interlude, the second

 

hey soo : **찬열**

kyungsoo : **찬열**

do kyungsoo : **찬열**

kyungsooooooooooooooo : **찬열**

soo : **찬열**

soo : **찬열**

soo : **찬열**

soo : **찬열**

**경수** : oh my god. what. 

hi : **찬열**

so u and baekhyun are both tiny : **찬열**

which one of u reaches the top shelf : **찬열**

**경수** : we don’t put anything on the top shelf.

ㅋㅋㅋ : **찬열**

**경수** : i’ll block you… 

i know that’s kyungsoo speak for “let’s talk forever” : **찬열**

**경수** : my thumb is hovering over the block button.

no listen : **찬열**

i’ve been thinking about getting a dog : **찬열**

like u did : **찬열**

it’s gonna be really cute : **찬열**

and really hyper : **찬열**

it’s gonna be me but in dog form : **찬열**

and i am going to love the fuck out of it : **찬열**

**경수** : that’s actually one of your better ideas

**경수** : it’ll do you some good 

**경수** : all that energy of yours can finally go somewhere

**경수** : i bet you’re getting on poor jongin’s nerves all day

you know : **찬열**

i would’ve taken a “chanyeol you’re so bright and amazing” or even : **찬열**

“chanyeol you’re the sunshine of my life” or like : **찬열**

“chanyeol you shine like the stars… you light up my heart” : **찬열**

**경수** : chanyeol 

**경수** : in what universe would i ever say a line like “you shine like the stars… you light up my heart” to anyone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who remembers "i'm first in your heart, right?" and ksoo sending a heart to chanyeol (better question: who else thinks about it daily)


	7. overture

i.

_ there are as many atoms in a single molecule of your dna as there are stars in the typical galaxy.  _

_ —  _ we are, each of us, a little universe

 

ii.

chanyeol’s unloading the dishwasher, arranging the spoons and forks in the drawer, when jongin shuffles into the kitchen. he’s in a black shirt and yellow sweatpants, his favorite bear slippers on his feet. chanyeol watches, amused, as jongin almost plants his face straight into the fridge, rubbing his eyes as he steps back to pull the door open. his hair is sticking up in every direction; he looks kind of like a hedgehog. 

“good morning,” chanyeol says, almost dropping a fork onto his foot. he curses under his breath, mind filled for a moment with horrible images of his poor toes being impaled.

jongin gives him a bleary look, a cup of yogurt in his hand. “do you always get up this early?” his words are a little slurred. “i swear you’re always up at like, five in the morning.” he pulls at the yogurt with his teeth, pulling it open and reaching around chanyeol for a spoon even though he’s already sucking some of it up. 

“i’m a morning person!” chanyeol says, grinning. “and you are clearly not.” he glances at the clock. “it’s nine thirty.” 

“it’s  _ early _ ,” jongin says. there’s a smear of yogurt on the left side if his mouth. 

“can i ask you a question?” chanyeol says, and jongin hums his assent. “do you know how the three musketeers came up with  _ apokalips _ ?” 

“if you mean the name, it was actually junmyeon’s doing,” jongin says, pulling a notebook out of absolutely nowhere. there’s a pencil in his hair and he tugs, flipping it around his fingers almost dizzyingly. “they couldn’t decide between ‘potato wart moonlight’ and ‘complete incarceration.’ none of them… flowed.” he's scribbling now, looking up every now and then at chanyeol. “so they asked junmyeon for his help. and then he and yixing came up with the slogan, which… i mean, yixing writes lyrics. i don’t know why he thought that was  _ okay _ . maybe junmyeon bribed him.” 

“wait,” chanyeol says. “p-potato… what?” 

“sehun’s idea.” jongin shrugs. “he always comes up with the most… interesting things. he’s a strange kid.” 

he flips his notebook so chanyeol can see what he’s drawn — it’s him, it’s chanyeol, with his big ears and curly hair. it’s like jongin’s captured everything chanyeol is on paper, from the dimpled smile that he always feels the need to keep on his face to the uncertainty lurking in the corners of his eyes. 

“wow,” chanyeol says, as if that comes anywhere close to the awe he feels. that’s him — it’s not just a likeness. it’s  _ him _ . 

“thank you,” jongin says. “safe to say you’ll make an appearance in  _ my little universe _ . if that’s okay?” 

“yeah, absolutely — can i,” chanyeol stammers, grabbing another handful of forks and spoons, “can i ask you another question? it’s a little more personal so you don’t… you don’t have to answer. if you don’t want to.” 

jongin’s pencil scratches away, an almost comforting rhythm. chanyeol wonders what he’s drawing this time. “go for it.” 

“why do you go by kai?” chanyeol bumps the drawer with his hip, shutting it. “like… why don’t you just put your name in the newspaper?” 

jongin taps his pencil against the corner of his mouth, looking at him thoughtfully. “i get that question a lot from the people who know what i do, and the honest answer is, i don’t really know? like i used it when i was first starting out because i liked the anonymity — like it still had a person attached to it, and that person was still me, but it wasn’t  _ me _ me, you know? i don't want to be just appreciated for my art.” chanyeol thinks about  _ loey _ and nods. there’s a grin spreading on jongin’s face, big and bright. “besides, kai is a cool name. it’s like being a superhero with a secret identity and everything.” 

“put on the glasses and you’re just kim jongin, nerdy barista,” chanyeol says, mirroring jongin’s grin.

“other way around,” jongin corrects, and they both laugh. when jongin’s not being quiet or saying some strange off-beat shit (capricorn humor — chanyeol’s sure of it from that brief phase during his senior year of high school when astrology had been his biggest obsession and he’d forced kyungsoo to read horoscopes with him on a daily basis) he’s surprisingly insightful. maybe it’s because he reads so often. chanyeol often catches him on break in a corner reading something thick, probably with small lettering, a stack of post-it notes next to him. usually baekhyun will be with him with his books spread out around him, chewing on a pencil and looking as stressed out as he’d expect a law student to be. 

speaking of. “last one, i promise,” chanyeol says. by this time, jongin’s finished off his yogurt, and he hands him a napkin so he can wipe his mouth. he hadn’t spilled any on his notebook but the way he’d been eating it had been almost like an afterthought. 

jongin snickers. “i’m here all day. literally. i am not going out today; i’ve had enough social interaction for the next month. that’s what hanging out with the universe crew is like, you know.”

“i don’t know,” chanyeol says, suddenly realizing he’d forgotten to eat breakfast. “this is also, um. personal.” he walks over to the fridge to get the milk out so he has something to do with himself. so he doesn’t have to be looking at jongin. “are you and baekhyun… together?” 

jongin makes a weird noise, and chanyeol turns to look at him. he blinks, and says, “chanyeol, close the fridge door.” 

“oh,” chanyeol says. “yeah.” 

he goes and looks for one of the bowls he’d just put away. the one he pulls out has flower detailing on it, pink cherry blossoms curling around the outside. 

“i don’t know,” jongin says, and chanyeol jumps. he’d almost forgotten he’d asked him a question. “i don’t… it’s not… we’re not like that.” he’s flushed as pink as his hair again, fiddling with his eraser. “baekhyun, he’s… he’s amazing and he’s so, so… bright? you know? like — like a-a star.” his hand goes up to his neck, where the choker from baekhyun is always resting. “and i’m…”

“and what? and you’re not?” chanyeol shakes his head, pausing with a spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. “jongin, you’re pretty damn cool. and you know what they say about opposites attracting.” he thinks about kyungsoo. attract, they sure did. “besides… he likes you a lot, you know.” baekhyun with his pretty eyes and that pretty smile he gets on his face whenever he looks at jongin. 

“it’s not that easy,” jongin says, shaking his head. “baekhyun likes everyone, that’s the thing. and sometimes he… sometimes he gets all up in his head and it feels like i’m the only one who can pull him out. we’ve been friends forever, and… you know, people haven’t been the nicest to him? because he talks so much and knows so much and sees so much — and what if he just… what if he just thinks he likes me because i’m — i’m good with him when it comes to his mind?” he stops abruptly, staring down at his sketchpad. his hair falls down over his eyes, hiding his expression from chanyeol. “sorry. that doesn’t make sense.” 

“it makes perfect sense,” chanyeol says through a mouthful of cereal. “and it sounds to me like you’re scared. and kind of an idiot. and i” — he taps his spoon against the edge of his bowl, sighing — “am being extremely hypocritical.” 

“first step to fixing a problem is recognizing it,” jongin says, smiling faintly. “pretty sure i learned that one in college before i dropped out.” 

“are you not going to  _ eat _ anything,” chanyeol says. “that yogurt cannot have been enough.”

“no solid food before noon,” jongin says, standing and stretching. he smiles down at his bear slippers before grabbing his stuff. “nice talk. i’m going to go try and be productive while not thinking about anything that was just said. key word being try.” he pauses at the door. “oh and chanyeol?” 

“yeah?” 

“practice your foam art.” 

 

iii.

ZOMNOM hits the shelves while chanyeol is unaware, buried miles deep under a second project. this video game is called space gladiator and is pretty much exactly what the title says it is. 

“so,” kyungsoo says, “it’s basically the plot of ragnarok.” 

they’re on the phone, late at night; chanyeol couldn’t sleep, so he’d called kyungsoo without even thinking about it and accidentally woken him up. he hadn’t minded (apart from a little grumbling) and now chanyeol finds himself slipping deeper into sleep’s waiting hands, lulled by kyungsoo’s thick, slightly scratchy voice. 

“no,” chanyeol says. “well, yes. but this is a little more humane. everyone who participates volunteers for it.” he shifts, hugging the nearest pillow a little tighter to his chest. “it’s really fun, actually.” 

“you’ve played it?” 

chanyeol can see kyungsoo in his mind’s eye right now, hair sticking up everywhere and eyes drooping. he swallows past the lump in his throat. “yeah, we kinda have to. hard to create music for a video game if you don’t know every last detail about it, right?” 

kyungsoo grunts, and they both fall silent for a few seconds. chanyeol almost falls asleep.

“do you like it better or worse than ZOMNOM?” 

“mm?” chanyeol says, brain struggling to remember what they were talking about. “ZOMNOM’s cooler, actually.”

kyungsoo sounds amused when he says, “i barely understood what you just said to me. i’m going to hang up, chanyeol. go to sleep.”

“okay, i —” he freezes, tongue heavy in his mouth. the  _ i love you _ had come even more automatically this time, almost slipped out before he could get a handle on it. “good night.” 

 

 

baekhyun floats up to the counter, a customer for once, and shoves something under chanyeol’s nose. he goes cross-eyed trying to look at it, and it’s only when baekhyun pulls it back that he recognizes the purple and green colors of the ZOMNOM case. 

“ndjsnamgxtxg,” chanyeol says in his excitement. 

“translate, please,” baekhyun says, propping his chin on his hand and smiling at kyungsoo. kyungsoo rolls his eyes at him. 

“he wants us all to get together so we can play ZOMNOM,” kyungsoo says flatly. “are you going to order or just stand there and flutter your eyelashes at me?”

“why can’t i do both?” baekhyun pouts. “i want a… hmm…” he looks like he’s waiting for one of them to chime in with whatever he’s thinking of.

“strawberry tart?” kyungsoo asks, eyes crinkled.

“you know me so well,” baekhyun says with a little sigh. “i want a hot chocolate, too, please. for jonginnie.” 

chanyeol watches as kyungsoo watches baekhyun go, a little smile on his face the entire time. “you really like him, huh?” 

“don’t you?”

“yeah,” chanyeol says, grinning. “i really do.” 

 

 

sehun arrives a little later than the rest of them, but he’s the one carrying the grocery bags, bulging with snacks, so none of them are complaining. baekhyun makes grabby hands delightedly, distributing the bags so everyone gets their favorites, because he remembers things like that. 

“okay,” chanyeol says, clapping his hands. everyone slowly shifts their focus from their food to him. “this is a tournament, so there are rules. here’s how it’ll go.” he leans forward, eyes intense. “winner gets a favor of their choice from all of us.” 

“one each?” yixing asks. 

“one each,” chanyeol confirms. “that’s a lot of power, so… be careful with it.” 

“just get on with it,” jongdae says, tossing a pillow at him. he catches it. 

“it’s pretty basic,” chanyeol says. “there’s nine of us; i’m sitting out because i’ve played through the game several times before and it gives me an unfair advantage. the rest of you get to draw numbers from this hat” — he pulls out a fedora jongin had found in his closet — “to find out who your opponent is.”

“hey, that’s my hat,” sehun says, pointing.    


“what was it doing in  _ my _ closet, then?” jongin asks. 

sehun puts his hands up. “i don’t know, man —”

“unimportant,” chanyeol interrupts. he shakes the hat, although a part of him is kind of afraid of touching it now. “pick a slip of paper.” they all descend on the hat, arguing amongst themselves as they reach in. finally, it’s empty, and chanyeol gives it one last shake before saying, “okay, now pair off.” 

jongin and junmyeon go first, and chanyeol settles in on the floor next to kyungsoo, leaning back against the couch. they’re in his and baekhyun’s apartment, and the rest of them are scattered over the couches and the floor with the occasional yells at the screen and the sound of baekhyun munching on chips obnoxiously loudly. 

“hey,” chanyeol says, bumping their shoulders together. kyungsoo looks extra small in his sweater and his glasses. 

“hey,” kyungsoo says back. he leans into chanyeol’s space a little. “you did a good job on this.”

“it wasn’t just me,” chanyeol says, chuckling. “it was a group effort. a  _ fun _ group effort.” 

“i know that. i’m still saying you did a good job.” 

chanyeol quiets for a few seconds, watching junmyeon groan with frustration as jongin directs a horde of zombies toward his hiding place. the multiplayer option on ZOMNOM is by far the most interesting one; it gets a little simple to get past computer generated zombie attacks even on hard mode. 

“thanks,” he says finally. “thanks, kyungsoo.”

jongin wins, then sehun against yixing, then kyungsoo against minseok, then baekhyun against jongdae (much to jongdae’s displeasure). they draw names again and play another round, and another, until kyungsoo remains as last man standing — much to everyone’s surprise but chanyeol’s. 

“huh,” baekhyun says, “i’ve never seen you play video games before, and you just beat all of us.” he shrugs. “should i order pizza now or what?” 

“wings too, please,” jongin says from where he’s leaning on baekhyun, face flush against his shoulder. he looks like he’s half asleep. 

“wings too,” baekhyun confirms. 

“what are you talking about?” chanyeol says, and baekhyun pauses, thumb hovering above his phone screen. “soo plays video games all the time. he thinks they’re fun — i remember one time i beat him at mario kart five times in a row and the next time he played he absolutely  _ decimated _ me, which means he went back and like, practiced, all cause i gloated in his face a couple times and he didn’t like it.” he winks at kyungsoo, who looks mildly amused.

“he always says no when i ask him to play,” baekhyun cries, looking genuinely distressed. chanyeol is confused.

“video games aren’t all that interesting,” kyungsoo admits. “it’s you who made them fun, chanyeol.” 

“oh,” chanyeol says, eyes widening, and there’s a really awkward period of silence. he draws his knees up to his chest, probably blushing profusely. 

“hey,” baekhyun says. “i can be fun too? this isn’t fair —” 

“you yell at your partner every time you play,” jongin says from where his face is smushed into baekhyun’s shirt. 

baekhyun scoffs, shrugging him off. “it’s friendly encouragement.” 

there’s a chorus of snickers, and chanyeol smiles down at kyungsoo, who smiles right back up at him. it’s like the two of them have found their rhythm again, chanyeol thinks as he hooks his pinky with kyungsoo’s. and they’ve even gotten a family as a bonus. 

 

 

chanyeol makes his way into the kitchen the next day, later than he’s usually awake. he’d slept in his jeans last night because neither baekhyun nor kyungsoo had clothes that fit his lanky frame; volunteering to stay behind to help clean up had been a great idea last night but now he just feels crusty and in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes. 

to his surprise, kyungsoo’s there too, guzzling a glass of water down. chanyeol just watches him for a few moments, watches the line of his jaw and how full his waist and arms look. there’s a warmth blooming in his chest, lighting him up from the inside out. 

kyungsoo notices him standing there and fills up another glass of water for him. he takes it gratefully, hand lingering. “go’morning.” 

“you’re up early,” chanyeol replies. he takes a sip of his water. “you were never the biggest morning person.” 

“you’re just late,” kyungsoo says in response, rummaging through the cabinets as chanyeol gulps down the rest of his glass. “what do you want for breakfast?” 

“mm,” chanyeol says, all too aware of how domestic this all is. “just cereal is good?” he trails kyungsoo around as he shuffles around the kitchen, and kyungsoo gives him a squinty-eyed glare. 

“you have me at your disposal and you just want cereal?” he says. chanyeol flushes. “why are you following me? go sit down somewhere.” 

“but —”

without warning, kyungsoo grabs him and  _ lifts _ him onto the kitchen counter, telling him to shut up. chanyeol is speechless; kyungsoo just goes back to pulling stuff out of the fridge like nothing happened. 

“kyungsoo…” he croaks out. 

“are eggs fine?”  
  


iv.

he’s spending more and more time with kyungsoo now, watching movies and talking into the night. they’re still skirting around the topic of kyungsoo himself, but he firmly believes things are better. a  _ lot _ better. 

he’s spending a lot of time with the rest of the universe crew as well; they all make it a point to get together at least once whenever the three musketeers find themselves in the area. apart from kyungsoo, he hangs out with baekhyun more — he has a magnetic personality and enough energy to meet chanyeol head on. 

baekhyun takes him volunteering one day, chattering the entire way there about the foundation and what they do and how marbled crayfish can clone themselves, how they didn’t exist until about 25 years ago. he flits from one topic to another with a staggering speed and chanyeol enjoys every second of it. “you know, i’ve always wanted to go to australia.” 

“but you’re scared of insects,” chanyeol points out. “and the ones in australia are… huge.” 

baekhyun pouts, not taking his eyes off the road. kyungsoo must like being in the car with him. “i know, but. there’s a lake off the south coast of western australia, on the edge of middle island, called lake hillier, and it’s bright pink.” he grins, brighter than the sun overhead. “i like pink.” 

“well, if you do ever go,” chanyeol says, “make sure you take lots of pictures, because i am not setting foot in a country with ten foot tall spiders.” 

baekhyun gives him a sideways look. “really, the biggest that spiders get in australia is giant huntsman spider; they’re about a foot wide.” chanyeol shudders. “it’s the giant centipede you need to worry about, ‘cause those things are everywhere —” 

“okay, that’s  _ enough _ ,” chanyeol says, and baekhyun giggles. “hey, sorry if this is weird, but… you seem a lot more comfortable around me? and that’s — i mean, i’m glad. i didn’t mean to... when we first met, uh…”

“don’t worry about it,” baekhyun says immediately. “honestly, it’s just something i need to get over — jongin tells me so all the time — and i’m working on it, but it’s like this… gut reaction to assume that i’m bothering people whenever i talk? you know?” he laughs a little, hands tight on the steering wheel. “i was… in school, i’d always get in trouble with my teachers ‘cause i’d be  _ talking _ , all the damn time, arguing with them about stuff i’d read and sucking up their — and my classmates’ — time. i mean… i was annoying back then, true. didn’t know when to shut up. i’m not sure how jongin and jongdae put up with me. but i was always that… weird kid. an outsider, just ‘cause i could read things and know them faster.”

“and that stayed with you,” chanyeol says. he thinks of kyungsoo, how he’d had to unfold him petal by petal, tear his guard down brick by brick. because living with his father had caused him to be too self-aware, too expectant of hurt. had built his walls up so high even chanyeol couldn’t see above them for the longest time. “i get it.” 

baekhyun is quiet for a minute, and chanyeol taps out a rhythm that’s been stuck in his head on the side of his knee. his mind has been full of grand scores and electronic beats that fit the space gladiator theme, and he’s missed making music for the sake of music, especially with his notebooks filling up with lyrics even quicker now. 

“is my car too small for you?” baekhyun says finally, glancing over at chanyeol, who admittedly is a little cramped. “why are you so long.” 

chanyeol laughs. “i drank a lot of milk as a kid.” 

 

 

“thank you all for coming!” the lady in front of them says, clapping her hands together in staccato. her name tag reads  _ yeonsoo _ and her hair is bleached blonde. chanyeol briefly considers doing the same, but dismisses the thought almost immediately. he knows from experience that dyeing hair can be more trouble than it’s worth, and he doesn’t think he could pull off blonde all that well. “group one” — he and baekhyun are both in that — “are going to follow me over here to the first station. donghyun will take the rest of you.” 

chanyeol grabs on to baekhyun’s elbow as the crowd around them dutifully follows behind yeonsoo to the part of the warehouse with the rows of cardboard boxes. they’re all filled with either clothes or shoes, and there’s a row of empty ones sitting perpendicular to them. 

“how many of you have been here before?” yeonsoo asks, and baekhyun waves a little. most of the people around them raise their hands as well. “good! we’re grateful for those of you who keep coming back, and we’re grateful for newcomers, too.” she’s small, but her voice carries even to the back of the group. “this station is pretty simple. the clothes in those boxes have been donated by various people and are unsorted; your job is to put them in the right boxes. make sure none of them have stains or holes bigger than a fifty-won coin. those go in the trash, over there.” 

she walks down the row of empty boxes, pointing out the ones for adult clothes, children’s clothes (“when i say children’s clothes, i mean  _ kids _ . if you’re uncertain, just put it in the adult box.”), adult shoes, adult heels, children’s shoes… chanyeol’s head is spinning a little when she’s done, but baekhyun notices his face and says, “don’t worry. it’s really easy to figure out when you’re actually doing it.” 

baekhyun was right; they fall into the rhythm of sorting easily. yeonsoo goes around and gives them plastic baskets they can gather clothes into before taking them to the boxes, and baekhyun makes him carry every one. 

“you know,” chanyeol says, tossing a shirt into the basket, “i’m really glad i got lost on my way to starbucks that day.” 

“you couldn’t find  _ starbucks _ ?” baekhyun snorts. “come on, that place is so hard to miss.” 

“hey,” chanyeol protests. “my sense of direction isn’t the greatest. i took soo out for a drive once and he had to get behind the wheel so we could come back.” he holds up a pair of pants with a waist side big enough that it would probably fit both him and baekhyun in it and whistles softly. “it takes me a while to get familiar with new places.” 

baekhyun reaches inside and reappears holding a bra. “what’s up with you and soo anyway? don’t take this the wrong way, but you two have a… really weird relationship.” 

“i know,” chanyeol says with a sigh. “why is there so much underwear in here? kyungsoo and i were together back where we grew up. and then i pulled… an asshole move and left for college without telling him i was going. i mean… he was the only person who knew i applied, but i didn’t tell him i had my mind made up.” 

“what,” baekhyun says, hands on his hips, “you don’t think these people need underwear, too?” he picks up the full basket, only to hand it to chanyeol. “go,” he says, patting chanyeol’s ass. “i’m gonna go get us some water.” 

chanyeol’s shuffling through shirts when baekhyun comes back, handing him a small bottle of water. 

“so, let me get this straight,” baekhyun says, and chanyeol braces himself to get berated. “you two technically never broke up.”

“kyungsoo — wait, what?” 

baekhyun waves a hand at him. “i’m not going to pass judgement on what happened. whatever you did or didn’t do, kyungsoo still thinks really highly of you. i personally don’t think either of you are blameless… love and life would be easy then, wouldn’t it?” 

“i,” chanyeol splutters. “it’s not kyungsoo’s fault — he never —” 

“wow, okay, mr whipped, you don’t have to convince me kyungsoo’s an absolute angel who does nothing wrong ever,” baekhyun says. “i know he’s perfect. i live with him. hey, are you going to drink that?” 

“how did you — no, take it,” chanyeol says, handing him the bottle. “i just… couldn’t be there anymore. i wanted more.” 

“you know what i think,” baekhyun says, unscrewing the cap. “i think the time apart did the two of you good.” 

 

 

v.

“we need to talk,” chanyeol says, setting the controller down. they’re playing through a test run of space gladiator, and so far kyungsoo has agreed that ZOMNOM is the better game. jongin’s at work, disappearing in the morning with a cheery smile and wave despite it being so early. “i know you asked for time, but… it’s been a while. i’ve given you that.” 

kyungsoo is silent.

“look,” chanyeol says with a sigh. he turns around so he can face kyungsoo. “i’m never going to stop being sorry for leaving without a warning —” 

“but you didn’t,” kyungsoo interrupts. “you didn’t, did you? did you forget that i know you better than you probably know yourself? you were giving out all these signs that living there was killing you slowly and i just…” he picks at the bracelets on chanyeol’s wrist, eyes downcast. “i chose to ignore them, because i was selfish enough to think that you would stay for me.” 

chanyeol’s chest hurts. “i — it’s not —” 

“look, i told you,” kyungsoo says. “i don’t blame you. i’m glad you left.” his voice drops to a whisper, eyes finally raising to meet chanyeol’s own. “look at you. you… you look so good. happy. vibrant.  _ alive _ .” 

“but so do you,” chanyeol cries. “so do you, kyungsoo — you were suffocating just as much as i was, if not even more! why didn’t you come with me? i wanted — i  _ wanted _ you to come with me. so much.” 

“i-i did,” kyungsoo says, and chanyeol freezes. “i did want to — to leave, so badly. i wanted to come here and audition and get away from my dad but i was… i was scared.”

“i never knew that,” chanyeol whispers. “what — you never told me that.” 

“i’m sorry i disappointed you,” kyungsoo says, mouth twisted in a bitter smile. 

“you didn’t — i wasn’t — why didn’t you tell me?” chanyeol says, frustrated. “sometimes it feels like you never tell me anything. like i have to force everything out of you.” 

“i said i’m sorry i disappoint you —” 

“it’s  _ not _ that, kyungsoo. listen to me. i know you… i know that’s the way you are, but you have to give me something, right?” 

kyungsoo’s shaking a little. “i need to go.” 

chanyeol doesn’t know what to do, or think, as kyungsoo heads for the door. he sits there, silent, scared, on the floor of his and jongin’s apartment, afraid he’s fucked things up yet again. 

 

 

kyungsoo gets sick. 

really sick, too, so much so that it has chanyeol worried and snappy on his shift at universe. the text from baekhyun that kyungsoo’s out of the hospital comes halfway through, and takes with it the last of chanyeol’s patience. eventually, minseok lets him go an hour early, shooing him out the door with a, “go see your boyfriend. and let me know how he is, too!” 

kyungsoo is sleeping when chanyeol shows up at the door, baekhyun shushing him immediately upon opening it. he beckons chanyeol inside, showing him to kyungsoo’s room. 

it’s mostly bare, dark walls and dark green sheets, and the curtains are drawn, too. chanyeol tsks under his breath, watching the slow rise and fall of kyungsoo’s chest. 

“hey baekhyun,” he says, keeping his voice low, “can you get me a chair?” 

“what, are you gonna camp out here or something?” baekhyun says, then pivots on his heel. “don’t answer that.” 

chanyeol approaches kyungsoo’s sleeping form slowly, reaches out to run his hands through kyungsoo’s hair just as slowly. his skin is burning, dark circles under his eyes, and there are pillow lines on his left cheek. he’s beautiful.

“here you go,” baekhyun says, reappearing with a folding chair. “i’m going to go make him some tea, okay? do you want some?” 

silent, chanyeol shakes his head, settling down into the chair. he debates for what feels like forever before reaching over and taking kyungsoo’s hand, threading their fingers together until kyungsoo’s palm rests against his, soft and warm. kyungsoo stirs a little and chanyeol’s heart skips a beat, but he doesn’t wake. 

he sits there for hours, holding kyungsoo’s hand, and only realizes he’s fallen asleep when he wakes up with his face on the covers of the bed and a line of drool down his chin. 

“hey,” kyungsoo croaks, and chanyeol scrambles upright, wiping at his face with his free hand. kyungsoo’s fingers tighten around his. “how… how long have you been here?” 

“i don’t —” chanyeol stammers, still half-asleep, “i don’t actually know.” 

before kyungsoo can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door, and then baekhyun sticks his head inside, raising his eyebrows at them. “kyungsoo! you’re awake again!” he disappears, but they can still hear his voice. “i brought you something that will cheer you up!”

“oh boy,” kyungsoo matters under his breath, and chanyeol’s jaw drops. 

baekhyun’s dragging a giant stuffed penguin into the room; he has to fold it by the stomach to get it to fit in the doorway — which means it’s taller than even chanyeol. “it’s cute, isn’t it?” baekhyun asks, grinning happily from around one of its flippers, cheeks flushed. 

“where the fuck,” chanyeol says, “did you get that thing.”

“the internet!” baekhyun says. “i actually… i don’t think it was supposed to be this big, but. i like this better.” 

“oh my god,” kyungsoo says faintly. chanyeol laughs so hard he wheezes. 

“i’m going to leave the two of you alone,” baekhyun says, eyes dropping to where chanyeol and kyungsoo’s hands are still joined. “i have to buy groceries anyway, bye!” he’s gone as quick as he came. 

kyungsoo laughs, throaty and hoarse. “he’s really something.” 

“kyungsoo…” chanyeol looks down, notices he’s started absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over kyungsoo’s knuckles again, second nature. “i’m sorry about everything that happened yesterday.” 

“i’m sorry, too,” kyungsoo says, shifting. “i… i was always so scared to say anything. i gave you more than most, you know? i’m sorry it wasn’t enough.” 

“no,” chanyeol says firmly. “don’t be. you’re never not enough, kyungsoo. i shouldn’t have pushed you. i just… i want you to know that you’re safe with me, okay? i just want you to be comfortable around me.” he squeezes their joined hands. “i… i love you.” kyungsoo’s eyelashes flutter. “kyungsoo, i love you, okay? i never stopped.” he stops, bites down on his lip with almost enough force to draw blood. “do you…” 

“do i love you?” kyungsoo asks. chanyeol knows he’s not supposed to answer. “yes. even after everything, yes, because i’ve had time to think about it and i know that the both of us were young and stupid, and this time apart has healed more than hurt.” his hand is like a vise around chanyeol’s own, knuckles white, and chanyeol can feel his heart trying to jump out of his body, out into kyungsoo’s hands. “am i  _ in _ love with you? jury’s still out.” his voice drops to a whisper. “but i have a feeling the verdict will come through very soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're in my ap lang class congrats you get the potato wart moonlight reference but also why the fuck are you reading this


	8. homecoming

i.

_why do you go away? so that you can come back. so that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. and the people there see you differently, too. coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving._

_—_ terry pratchet, a hat full of sky

  
ii.

they both decide to go home for chuseok. together. chanyeol needles kyungsoo until he agrees to help him bake brownies that he can take home to his parents. (it doesn’t take a lot to convince him, and it has chanyeol on cloud nine for the rest of the day.)

“mix,” kyungsoo says, and obediently chanyeol mixes the bowl of oil and sugar, humming under his breath. kyungsoo watches him for a few moments, smiling, before reaching over for the eggs and and vanilla. “this is nice. i missed it.” chanyeol positively buzzes with happiness.

kyungsoo dumps all the dry ingredients in a bowl, mixing in silence by chanyeol’s side. they pour kyungsoo’s bowl into chanyeol’s when they’re both ready, and chanyeol greases a pan while kyungsoo works.

“hey, how come i’m always the one pre-heating the oven?” chanyeol asks suddenly. kyungsoo gives him a weird look.

“because shut up and come over here,” kyungsoo says, beckoning. “okay, this needs to go in the oven for about twenty minutes. we can make the frosting while we wait.” chanyeol pulls the oven door open, and kyungsoo gives him a very unconcerned warning to not burn himself.

“thank you for the sincerity,” chanyeol says. kyungsoo’s turning the heat up on the stove, and he shoots chanyeol a small, very cute smile.

“you’re almost twenty-four,” kyungsoo says. “i know you’re just a giant child, but i hope you at least know how to use an oven by now. butter.”

chanyeol hands him the butter, pouting. kyungsoo ignores him, watching the butter melt with intense focus. “cocoa.”

“you’re just using me,” chanyeol complains, bringing the cocoa over. “this was supposed to be a collaborative effort.” he brightens. “hey, speaking of, will you consider singing on my —”

“no.”

“but —”

“no,” kyungsoo says, brandishing a bowl at him like a weapon. “and no amount of pouting will let you get your way.”

“you’re no fun.” crossing his arms, chanyeol watches kyungsoo pour the mixture into the bowl. “hey, i should get you a _kiss the cook_ apron.”

“you should absolutely _not_ do that,” kyungsoo says, glaring as he dusts his hands on his _plain_ green apron. he looks more cute than threatening, with his small frame and his big chunky glasses.

“oh, come on,” chanyeol says. “you’d look cute.”

“no,” kyungsoo repeats, ignoring chanyeol’s loud whine. “and stop following me, oh my god, go get the brownies out of the oven, they should be done —”

by the time kyungsoo’s back from the bathroom, the brownies are sitting on the counter and chanyeol is finishing with whisking the frosting, accidentally getting some of it on his cheek. “smells good,” kyungsoo says, eyes softening as they land on the patch of chocolate on chanyeol’s face.

“time to frost?” chanyeol says, holding the bowl up, and kyungsoo nods, smiling.

“what are you doing?” kyungsoo asks. chanyeol is bent over the brownies, frowning in concentration. “is that a — chanyeol, are you drawing frosting hearts?”

“they’re cute,” chanyeol defends, flushing under kyungsoo’s unreadable gaze. “they’re —” he cuts off in surprise, dropping the piping bag onto the table, as kyungsoo’s small hands go around his waist. “what are you —”

“you are so,” kyungsoo says, backing into the fridge, “so…” he trails off, chanyeol acutely aware of the heat of his palms on his chest. “damn it,” he whispers, reaching up to cup chanyeol’s face in his hands, and chanyeol’s heart is going a hundred miles a second and kyungsoo’s eyes are so dark and —

“hey, kyungsoo do you know where you put the — oh my _god_.” both their heads snap toward baekhyun, who’s standing there with a horrified look on his face. “shit, sorry, did i interrupt something?” kyungsoo’s hands drop from his face and he almost whimpers. baekhyun’s expression is morphing into glee. “am i finally going to be sexiled?”

“baekhyun, shut up,” kyungsoo grumbles. “are you any good at frosting?” chanyeol’s throat is thick with disappointment as he steps away.

“you know,” baekhyun says, gazing down at the lopsided hearts littered over the brownies, “if you really wanted something pretty, you should’ve just asked jongin.”

“i’m calling him right now,” chanyeol says.

jongin answers right away. “hey. thank you so much for calling; i was looking for an excuse to not do my work.”

“artist’s block?” chanyeol says sympathetically. he gets it every now and then on his compositions, although it’s been rarer these days.

“the worst kind,” jongin confirms.

“want to come to baek and soo’s apartment?” chanyeol offers. “we kind of need your help frosting brownies.”

“frosting... brownies,” jongin repeats. “oh my god, yes. i am coming over right away.”

there’s a knock on the door not soon afterwards, and baekhyun rushes to open it, a large smile on his face. they exchange a few words in the doorway, voices low enough that chanyeol can’t hear.

“hey,” jongin says, striding into the kitchen. baekhyun reaches up to tug his beanie off, tossing it on the sofa somewhere, ignoring kyungsoo’s pointed look. “wow, it smells amazing.”

“i know, right?” chanyeol says, excited. “can you draw me a beach? and some rocks? and a ferry?”

“a f—” jongin looks a little bewildered.

“slow down,” kyungsoo says drily. “you’re overwhelming him.”

“my bad, my bad,” chanyeol says, handing over the piping bag. “please, do whatever you’d like, kaicasso.”

“mm, no,” baekhyun says. “no way. more like… mikailangelo.”

“what? that’s ridiculous,” kyungsoo says. jongin starts drawing a ferry. “kai gogh.”

“that’s terrible,” baekhyun protests. “you put in zero effort! mine is creative and fun!”

“can all of you be quiet,” jongin says gently, and they all shut up. when he’s finally done, they all crowd around the finished product. there’s the ferry, and the beach, and fishing rocks, and chanyeol gets a big old helping of homesickness dished straight into his heart.

“first of all, i like mikailangelo best,” jongin says, and baekhyun lets out a whoop. “second, i better be paid in brownies.”

 

iii.

the ferry to deokjeokdo is spent in silence; neither of them talk, too nervous and jittery about being back for the first time in years. chanyeol’s grip on the wrapped box of brownies tightens more and more the closer they are, and eventually kyungsoo lays his hand lightly on his knuckles and leaves it there, soothing chanyeol’s nerves somewhat.

it’s just the same as when he’d left. it’s chuseok, so it’s flooded with people who’d grown up on this island, had homes here, and a surprisingly large number of tourists as well. chanyeol keeps a tight hold of kyungsoo’s hand as they make their way to viva polo. outside, they pause, and chanyeol sucks in a wavering breath.

“you’ll be okay,” kyungsoo promises. “they love you.”

chanyeol pushes the door open.

it takes a bit for chanyeol’s mom to notice him; she’s talking to a customer, bent slightly at the waist with waves of hair escaping from her ponytail and framing her face. chanyeol’s chest constricts just as his mom looks up and sees him standing there.

“chanyeol!” she says, eyes widening, and then he’s striding toward her, crying in front of everyone. she’s tiny, so tiny in his arms, and she rocks him back and forth, hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly. “welcome home,” she whispers, eyes misty, when he draws back, and he almost breaks down again.

“i got you brownies,” chanyeol says, remembering the box in his hands, and she laughs, reaching up to squeeze his cheeks fondly.

he reaches blindly for kyungsoo, who’s been hanging back. “and... i came with soo, mom.”

“oh,” chanyeol’s mom says, eyes crinkling into a smile despite her initial surprise. “hi, kyungsoo, sweetie, you look good.” she pinches kyungsoo’s cheeks affectionately, and he blushes.

“looks like you still like him better than me,” chanyeol says, grinning, and gets an elbow in his side from kyungsoo for his comment.

“well,” chanyeol’s mom says, eyes still a little watery, “now that you’re both here i’m putting you to work. we have a lot of customers this time of the year; come on.”

 

 

 

for kyungsoo, it’s a lot harder. he stands tight-lipped at the doorstep of his father’s minbak, face void of any expression. chanyeol waits with him. 

“i don’t know if i can do this,” he says softly.

“you don’t have to,” chanyeol responds, immediate. “you really don’t have to, soo. you don’t owe him anything. you can just turn around and we’ll go back to the park place.”

kyungsoo nods, just a little, but doesn’t move. “i know, but…”

“i love you,” chanyeol says, near-whisper, and kyungsoo gives him a quick, wide-eyed look before opening the door. it’s quiet, empty; kyungsoo’s father runs it out of their spare bedroom, the one seungsoo had stayed in before he’d left, and there doesn’t appear to be anyone home, not even a guest.

but kyungsoo’s dad staggers out of the bathroom from the left, looking as much a mess as he had been five years ago, and chanyeol hears the sound of kyungsoo’s soft exhale.

“oh,” kyungsoo’s father says. “you’re here.”

“key was still under the mat,” kyungsoo says, voice steady, but his hand reaches for chanyeol’s.

kyungsoo’s father’s eyes follow the movement. “so, you weren’t kidding, were you? you and… him.” he jerks his chin at chanyeol, who drops kyungsoo’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, tucking kyungsoo’s head under his chin.

“yes,” kyungsoo says. “yes, i was.”

“i don’t know what you want from me,” kyungsoo’s father says, frowning.

kyungsoo is quiet for a bit, and chanyeol squeezes him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “nothing,” he says eventually. “i want absolutely nothing from you. i don’t… all my life, you had this specific image of who you wanted your son to be, and y-you made me feel like whatever i did, i was never enough.” his eyes are shining. “when mom... when mom died, you made me feel like it was m-my...” he takes a breath, eyes closed. “you were wrong. all of it. and chanyeol was right. i don’t owe you anything.” he takes another deep breath, nodding. “bye, dad. i don’t think you’re ever seeing me again.”

 

 

 

chanyeol makes himself busy drawing kyungsoo’s name in big letters in the sand. it’s late at night, the stars bright and exceptionally clear overhead, and chanyeol is a little giddy with relief in happiness.

“isn’t it beautiful?” kyungsoo says just as chanyeol finishes drawing the heart. he’s standing a short distance away with his hands in his pockets, head tipped back to gaze at the night sky. “you can’t get this in seoul.”

“yeah,” chanyeol says, looking right at kyungsoo. he catches his glance and flushes, ducking his head. “hey, soo, come look at this.” he steps carefully around the sand drawing, putting his arm around kyungsoo’s narrow shoulders and leading him to where his name is written like some sort of proclamation to the sky above.

“you’re ridiculous,” kyungsoo says, but he’s smiling so big his cheeks are all puffed out and his nose is scrunched. the most beautiful sight in the world, more beautiful than even the sea and the constellations.

they stand there, just the two of them, for a few moments, watching the waves rush in and out. chanyeol feels the most at peace as he has in the past five years — and also the most courageous.

but apparently so is kyungsoo.

“i’ve always wanted to be an actor,” he says slowly, and chanyeol shuts up and lets him talk. “you know this. i did all those musicals in school — i’m still surprised my dad let me, actually — and i had such big dreams. i know you know what that’s like. but.” he pauses. “unlike you, i never really thought i had a chance to make them come true for myself. and the worst part is, i was always too scared to even think about trying. i tried approaching my dad about it once, after you'd left, and he shot me down so quick it was like i'd never spoken... and that's when i blew up. i told him the truth, that i'm gay, that i didn't want to spend the rest of my life here following in his deadbeat footsteps. and now…” he presses his lips together, and chanyeol rubs his shoulder. “now i have such a good support system, and i’m so much more sure of myself, and i want to give it a shot.”

“so does that mean…”

“when we get back,” kyungsoo says, nodding slightly, “i’m going to audition. and if i don’t make it the first time, that’s okay. i’ll try again.”

“i’m proud of you,” chanyeol says. “kyungsoo, i’m so, so proud of you.” kyungsoo’s cheeks flush. “i know you don’t get to hear that a lot, but i’m going to tell you so every single day from now on.”

kyungsoo looks a little overwhelmed, leaning into chanyeol’s touch with red cheeks and big eyes. chanyeol is terribly in love with him.  “so what’s your verdict?” he asks, and kyungsoo raises his eyebrows at him. “are you in love with me?”

“chanyeol…”

he licks his lips. “am i… too much? ever? i’m always so… so loud and everywhere and tripping over myself and losing my way and i won’t stop bothering you and —”

“no, oh my god,” kyungsoo says. “how could you — how could you ever think that?” he looks distressed.

“have you heard of the multiverse theory? there’s something poetic about it, don’t you think? the idea that there are a million different milky ways, a million earths, a million of you and a million of me?” chanyeol needs to make kyungsoo _understand_ , understand something he can’t even put a name to. “a million of us. more. and i believe that in every single one of those universes, we would find each other. over and over. maybe — maybe not as lovers. maybe as friends, or coworkers, or family, but we would find each other and love each other. and as ridiculous as this sounds, maybe in one universe, we’re idols, both in the same group, and people write pages and pages of fanfic about us.” at this, kyungsoo snorts, shaking his head. “i don’t... i don’t know, but in all of these worlds, we would be in each other’s lives. all of them.” he takes kyungsoo’s hand in his, laces their fingers together. they fit between his like they were always meant to be there. “and if we wouldn’t, then i would look for you. i would search a thousand universes for you, a million — i would search for an eternity just to find you and love you.”

kyungsoo blinks. “okay.”

“okay?”

“okay,” he whispers, and then finally, _finally_ , he’s pulling chanyeol’s face to his, hands fisted in his shirt. chanyeol’s arms go around him, tucking him closer to his body, his head tilting so he can kiss him better. kissing kyungsoo is as mind blowing as it had been years ago, but even _more_ potent now. he can feel the affection, the warmth, the love blooming out of his chest like the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, wrapping around the two of them and pulling them closer still. kyungsoo’s lips are warm, soft, demanding, and it’s everything he had ever ached for, longed for, and more. it’s like coming home.

it feels like they kiss for hours, like chanyeol’s brain is melting through his body, every soft sigh and exhale and slide of their lips amplified by his thundering heart. everytime chanyeol pulls away for a breath kyungsoo pulls him right back in, lips and teeth and tongue with their own orbit, one that doesn’t let him escape. finally, chanyeol breaks the kiss, panting a little as he rests his forehead against kyungsoo’s.

“let’s never do this again,” kyungsoo whispers, eyes bright with unshed tears. he looks a little like he’s glowing, like if he were the night sky then the amount of stars littered across his skin would be so numerous they’d crowd out the darkness. “let’s never leave each other again. let’s always be together — for the next ten, twenty, thirty, one hundred years, let’s always be together.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mm ksoo says he's not a romantic (he also says he doesn't believe in aliens, which. what the fuck) but like,, if you're not a romantic how else do you come up with a line like "for the next ten, twenty, thirty, one hundred years, let’s always be together" you might as well just admit you write sappy poetry about chanyeol's cute face


	9. zenith

i.

_if you ask all the cells_

_in my body,_

_they only answer your name._

_follicles push the hair upwards_

_so they may brush against your skin._

_nails grow faster as well,_

_lungs breathe rapidly_

_in hopes of inhaling your scent._

_toes curl to smile and_

_knees form dimples when you are_

_near._

_brain fireworks._

_stomach fills with flies of butter_

_and swallows, and_

_swans swoon._

_cattle, rhinos, and walruses too_ —

_there’s a stampede when you are near._

_i love you from the bottom of my liver_

_to the tip of my lashes._

_one wink from you and heart stops,_

_like a sneeze. bless you._

_i cannot even begin to tell you_

_what happens to soul,_

_for soul is off_

_flying with its mate._

— kamand kojouri

 

ii.

kyungsoo doesn’t make the first audition.

he doesn’t make the second one, either, but it’s okay — chanyeol watches with fierce pride, with admiration, as kyungsoo just picks himself right back up and plans on another try. the season changes. chanyeol gets a dog, a tiny thing named toben that looks an awful lot like kyungsoo’s dogs. they rediscover each other, smile by touch by kiss.

they go on dates. actual dates, not the two of them sneaking around and pretending to be friends. kyungsoo takes chanyeol to the movies and kisses him, mouth full of popcorn and all. chanyeol takes kyungsoo to the arcade, and they play the rigged claw games.

chanyeol wins him a stuffed penguin once, one that looks suspiciously similar to the giant monster baekhyun had given him when he was sick.

“hey, wait,” kyungsoo says, turning back to the game. chanyeol’s brows furrow in confusion.

“do you want another one?” chanyeol asks as kyungsoo tries and fails to pick anything up. he drops another coin in. “um, kyungsoo, why don’t you just let me —”

“no, shh,” kyungsoo says. chanyeol watches him try six more times before opening his mouth again.

“kyungsoo, maybe you should —”

“here,” kyungsoo says, proudly holding up an identical penguin.

“but that’s the same one, what…”

“yes,” kyungsoo says patiently, “but this one’s for you.” chanyeol stares down at the penguin. “yeol, your ears are bright red.”

chanyeol laughs suddenly. “you got us couple stuffed toys!” he says, watching in delight as kyungsoo blushes.

“shut up,” kyungsoo mumbles, but his face splits into a brilliant smile when chanyeol tips his penguin forward so its beak touches kyungsoo’s penguin’s in a kiss.

 

iii.

 

hey soo : **찬열**

you give me a heart boner and a dick boner : **찬열**

  
iv.

kyungsoo is puttering around the kitchen, earbuds in and singing along, when chanyeol stumbles in. baekhyun’s long gone, spending the day — and the night, too — with jongin, who chanyeol suspects has finally acted on his feelings. baekhyun had been more than happy to be sexiled either way.

“kyungsoo!” chanyeol says, and kyungsoo shoots him a look, like, _what._

“kyungsoo!” he says again. “soo! give me attention!” kyungsoo ignores him. “kyung _soo_. do kyungsoo. kyung —”

kyungsoo grabs him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down so they’re eye to eye and effectively silencing him. “shut. up,” he says, leaning forward to kiss him. chanyeol’s toes curl, and he sighs into the kiss, whining a little when kyungsoo picks him up yet again to deposit him on the counter. “stay there.”

“it’s so hot that you can just lift me,” chanyeol says, watching kyungsoo’s ass. his mouth feels all tingly.

kyungsoo gives him a look.

presently, when it looks like kyungsoo’s finishing up organizing spices or whatever he’s doing, chanyeol says, “i want you to fuck me.”

kyungsoo lets out a little sigh. “how about a movie?”

“what?” chanyeol says, watching him walk over to the living room and pull out a stack of dvds. “a — no, no movie! i want to have sex.” he hops off the counter, indignant.

“does a horror movie sound good?” kyungsoo says in response, holding one of the dvds up.

“no,” chanyeol says immediately. “you always make fun of me for getting really scared and latching onto you like a koala. direct quote. besides, i said i wanted you to —”

“sharknado, then?”

chanyeol huffs. “i can’t believe you want to have _sharknado_ instead of sticking your dick in my ass! sharknado is a terrible, ridiculous, and absolutely unsexy movie!”

“how to train your dragon it is, then,” kyungsoo says impassively. “although, i have been wanting to watch sharknado for the laughs for a while now…” chanyeol lets out a long whine.

laughing, kyungsoo sets the dvds down to kiss chanyeol, pulling him flush against his chest. he deepens the kiss almost immediately, sending chanyeol stumbling a step or two backwards. he’s pliant under kyungsoo’s hands, responding to every push and pull with immediacy.

“what,” chanyeol says, flushed and dizzy and terribly aroused, “about sharknado?”

“fuck sharknado —”

 

 

 

chanyeol wakes up before kyungsoo the next day as usual, but this time he just lays in bed, indulging in the feeling of kyungsoo’s back against his chest, the quiet way kyungsoo sleeps, the way the two of them are curled around each other in a tight ball.

“mm,” kyungsoo says as chanyeol leans over to press a kiss to his cheek. “ismornin’ already?”

“i’m afraid so,” chanyeol says softly, chuckling. “hey. i love you.”

“don’t kiss me until you’ve brushed your teeth,” kyungsoo says in response, and chanyeol bursts into laughter, pressing kisses all over kyungsoo’s cheeks despite his grumbles.

he’s halfway through brushing his teeth when kyungsoo shuffles into the bathroom, hair an absolute mess and eyes half closed. his glasses aren’t on, so chanyeol knows he’s practically blind.

kyungsoo stares at his reflection for a long moment before he reaches for his own toothbrush, and chanyeol stands there and stares at him for too long, heart filled to the brim. “you have toothpaste on your cheek,” kyungsoo says, rubbing at a spot on his cheek, and chanyeol leans down to smack a kiss full of toothpaste and slobber onto his forehead.

“gross,” kyungsoo squeals, rubbing at his skin. “oh my god, chanyeol —”

chanyeol laughs, loud and booming. “i love you, soo.”

“i love you too,” kyungsoo says softly, squinting up at him. “now finish brushing so we can kiss properly.”

they kiss all the way back to the bed, unhurried and soft, and chanyeol tips the two of them backwards into the sheets. kyungsoo struggles out of his hold, sitting upright and pulling chanyeol into his lap.

“love you,” chanyeol says again, never tired of the way it sounds leaving his lips. “i’m proud of you.”

“you’re a big sap,” kyungsoo says, smiling wide, wide, wide. he doesn’t deny it, just slides off kyungsoo’s lap so his head is lying on it instead.

kyungsoo runs his fingers through chanyeol’s hair, lifting his bangs off his face. chanyeol nuzzles into kyungsoo’s belly more, feeling, more than hearing, his soft chuckle, his exhale. “i don’t ever want you to think for even a second i was ashamed of you.” chanyeol cracks his eyes open, but kyungsoo places his index finger on his lips. “no, let me say this, chanyeol. i was never, ever ashamed of you. i was scared, that what we had was too good to be true and if i made the slightest misstep at any point you would disappear from my life. so when you told me you were leaving...” he laughs a little, cupping chanyeol’s cheek in his palm. “you always were so loud about your love. you still are. and i’m... i’m not, you know? it’s like i’m always trying to catch up to you, how you tell everyone so bluntly about how much you love me. sometimes i feel like i’m not enough.”  
  
chanyeol scrambles upright, pulling kyungsoo into his lap and cradling his face in his hands. his palms fit around kyungsoo’s face so neatly, thumbs running over the plump redness of his cheeks. “kyungsoo. i love you. and i’m not blind, or stupid — well, that stupid — i could always tell you loved me... you love me even if you don’t actually say it often, okay? i wake up and you’re there making me breakfast, you only pretend to not listen to what i’m talking about even though you tell me all the time i talk too much, a-and you make that cute noise in the back of your throat when i kiss you” — he leans forward to demonstrate, kyungsoo’s lips pliant beneath his own — “and all those things tell me you love me, even if your words don’t.”

“sap,” kyungsoo repeats.

“i like taking care of you,” chanyeol says, pressing a kiss to the top of kyungsoo’s head. “i know you don’t need it, i know you can handle yourself and you definitely don’t need to be coddled, but. i like it. and i like you.”

“i like you too,” kyungsoo says, and everything he can’t find the words to say is laid bare in his gaze. “a lot.”

chanyeol picks up a pillow, and taps kyungsoo’s head with it. “pillow fight?”

they wrestle on the bed, kyungsoo pinning him easily and smacking him across the face with a pillow. he laughs, choking on air, and kyungsoo leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. “well, that was short.”

“god, i’m so in love with you,” chanyeol murmurs, gazing up at kyungsoo’s face. “i want to do with everything with you. want to wake up to you every morning and cook you breakfast and put a bow on my head and put myself under our tree so i can be your christmas present” — kyungsoo makes a small noise at the back of his throat — “and i… i want to get married to you, soo, want to grow old living with you. loving you.”

“and we can do that,” kyungsoo says seriously. “we have all the time in the world.”

and that’s what they’ll do, chanyeol realizes as he threads his fingers slowly with kyungsoo’s. they’ll find the empty spaces they’d created in each other and slide slowly back into them, fill them up with laughter and comfort. however long it will take to fit together seamlessly once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you
> 
> much of this chapter was inspired by fanart, which you can find in [this](https://elyjeon.tumblr.com/search/chansoo+art) tag.
> 
> i would just like to clarify one thing: i am a pcy anti
> 
> thank you so!! much!! for reading, for leaving kudos / comments, for supporting i love all of you and i am always so grateful


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